Don't Look Back
by Valtira
Summary: The dark pit of oblivion surrounded him. He could feel the heat scorching his skin. Chained spread eagle in the midst of hell he screamed his brother’s name. “Saaaaaaammmmmmmmm.”
1. Chapter 1

_**This is my take on how Sam would attempt to get his brother out of hell. Its a twisted little tale and I hope you will like it. **_

**_Thanks to Raptor for finding my most glaring errors. The rest of the spelling, grammar, run on sentences that you will see, well they are mine all mine and I take full responsability for them._**

_**Disclaimers: I don't own, I don't make no money, blah blah blah!**_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**DLB1 Tortured Soul**_

The dark pit of oblivion surrounded him. He could feel the heat scorching his skin. Chained spread eagle in the midst of hell he screamed his brother's name. "Saaaaaaammmmmmmmm."

All he heard was cackling, chittering laughter in the distance. Fear skittered through him when he felt the chains begin to bounce as if someone or something was walking across them. He drew in a panicked breath at the sight of the creatures crawling toward him.

Hellhounds!

Dean knew they weren't done with him yet. It wasn't enough that they had dragged him from life into death. They needed to teach him a lesson in what hell was all about.

He heard the clickedy clack of their claws scraping across the chains. Huge gaping maws inched closer until their hot fetid breath brushed across his face. Drawing in a frightened breath he turned away, fighting to escape his fate.

He yanked at the chains in desperation to be free yet knowing it was useless. As one they attacked. Razor sharp claws tore into his body sinking deep into muscle and breaking the bone beneath. Fangs dripping with ichor tore through his neck. He screamed in agony and died again.

It was the way of hell, tortured memories that would haunt him for eternity. Stripping away his humanity, until only the demon inside him remained.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was eerily dark, the hot air seared his lungs as he woke and grabbed for breath. His eyes were closed his sandy blonde hair hung in limp strands down across his face and shoulders. The skin of his face was grimy, covered with soot and ash. It was the worst nightmare he'd ever experienced.

Only it wasn't a nightmare. It was hell!

He couldn't see he could only imagine what lay beyond the darkness a few feet from where he hung. All around him he could hear the screams of tortured souls. He shuddered, praying to a god he didn't really believe in. Knowing his prayers would never be answered.

Stinging sweat poured from him, mingling with his blood as it coursed down his body. He hung from chains that bound him to this nightmare. Like everything else the bindings were designed to cause extreme pain. Spikes tore into the flesh of his wrists and ankles; it was nothing but a dull ache now.

No sunlight, just an unrelieved fiery darkness surrounded him. He didn't know how long he'd been there. Time had no meaning, just pain, agonizing mind-bending, gut-wrenching pain. The hell hounds were only the beginning. They had ravaged his physical body tearing at his soul and dispatching him to death, over and over and over again.

He vowed never to give in, never become one of them, but they knew all the ways to make him suffer and suffering twisted the mind. As strong as he was eventually even he knew he would break.

They beat at him with everything they had; fire seared his body while greedy bugs ate at his flesh. The dark denizens pelted him with rocks. He heard their laughter, their scorn for what he had been and what he would soon become.

He heard the crack of the whip a nano second before the barb sliced into his back tearing off a strip of skin and laying him open to bone. His body arched against the pain, but he didn't cry out when the agony tore through his body. Again and again the whip snapped out flaying his back until not an inch of skin was left intact. This wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last.

Fleeing from the pain tearing through his body the hunter's mind fled inward. He hid behind a wall where they could not touch him. His body would suffer but he was used to that.

In an instant it all changed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Chapter 1 down - I hope you liked it. Another chapter will follow in a couple of days. I'm doing my very best to finish up the last chapter, its almost there, I just need a couple hrs computer time to git er done! Huggers. Please review and let me know what you think, Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this took me so long to post. I went out of town for the holiday weekend and forgot to post it before I left. Hope you like, please review and throw a starving dog a bone. **

**DLB2 Desperation**

Ruby had told him he could save his brother by tapping into his psychic powers. Sam wanted desperately to believe her, but he didn't have a clue on how to start. Now she was nowhere to be found.

Lilith's fear of him and rapid exit from the room after she'd attacked him had made him a believer, but still he didn't know where to begin. So he'd opted for a full frontal attack instead.

Dean was dead and buried – he couldn't bring himself to burn the body. He had to find a way to bring him back. He had too! Storing his brother in a freezer or stashing him in a refrigeration plant had been some options, in the end he'd buried him. He just couldn't stand the thought of leaving him behind, but what choice did he have.

Desperation ate at the young hunter as he searched for a means to save his brother. His first thought had been the Devil's gate. Without the colt there was no way to open it. "Damn you, Bella!"

Summoning Ruby had been a waste of time. Lilith had taken Ruby's body and probably sent the demon back to hell or killed her. Either way, she wasn't answering the call.

Staring into the distance a tiny flicker of hope speared at his heart. A story on the internet drew him to Neihart, Montana.

Two men their bodies torn and bloodied had been found dead. One had been a high school wrestler, the other a champion kick boxer. Both had been wearing leather armor like the gladiators of old. Both men had been visitors to Neihart. Hiking and climbing had been their reason for being in town.

Wrong place at the wrong time!

This was the fourth town that had experienced this type of event. Each of the previous towns had lost between three and five young men. Neihart was a long shot, but he had to try. He prayed he was right, Dean was running out of time.

What drew him was the author's mention of a sulfurous smell. Sulfur usually meant a demon and a demon meant hell.

Speculation said the demons had set up a Fight Club – his hope was the fights were held in the Demon realm and not on earth. He had to find the gate, get chosen and save his brother.

No matter what the Trickster had tried to teach him or the words Dean had thrown out before he died Sam couldn't let it go. Would never let it go!

The black Impala moved quickly down the road, Sam was working furiously on a plan. A hundred scenarios flashed through his mind, a hundred discarded just as quickly. He ground his teeth in frustration.

Dawn was swiftly approaching. The first rays of the sun were peeking over the mountains when he saw the sign indicating he was approaching Neihart. For the first time since his brother had died he cracked a small smile. Beneath the 'Welcome to Neihart' sign was a second sign. It was these words that had him smiling – if only slightly.

"_Our small town is like heaven to us, please don't drive like Hell through it_".

He only wished he could drive "_**to**_" hell through it!

Reluctantly he lifted his foot off the gas pedal and slowed the car to the required speed limit. Getting stopped by the cops wasn't anywhere in the game plan. Yet every second he wasted brought him closer to loosing his brother forever.

Sam scanned the computer printout on the seat next to him. Located in the heart of the Little Belt Mountains, Neihart was approximately halfway between the Yellowstone Park entrance at Gardiner and the Glacier Park entrance at East Glacier with only one motel in town – "Bob's." Any other time he might have laughed at the name, but not this day. He needed to stay under the radar but it was the only game in town and that's where he intended to play. His only other choice was sleeping under the stars – that wasn't his first choice so Bob's was it.

He had no doubt that the cops, the FBI and every news crew in the state would be on hand to muck up the scene. They had no clue what they were dealing with. Slipping through the radar was his first task.

Most of the little town was still sleeping when the Impala rolled down the one main street Neihart possessed. A big sign heralded Bob's motel and restaurant. Pulling in he was relieved to see the open sign flickering over the restaurant door. He needed coffee and information and a hick town restaurant was the perfect place for both.

Putting on his game face he pushed the door open to reveal the tired interior of the establishment. Booths lined the front windows, the faded blue of the vinyl seats was torn and ragged, akin to the feelings raging through the young hunter. A small table in the shadowy corner of the room drew his attention. Sliding into the chair he made a show of opening the menu as the smiling waitress crossed to meet him.

"Morning," she greeted him.

Sam looked up and pasted a wan smile on his face. The girl staring at him was young. She couldn't have been more than seventeen, he mused silently. Sandy blonde hair was swept up in a ponytail to trail down the middle of her back. Soft chocolate brown eyes were wide and friendly as she looked at him.

"Long trip," she asked seeing the stress and exhaustion written clearly on his handsome face.

"Something like that," he murmured in reply.

"The special this morning is coffee, two eggs, ham, potatoes and a short stack, for 4.95."

Flashing his dimples Sam replied quietly, "Special sounds good, thanks."

"Coming right up," she answered spinning away as she jotted down his order.

He heard her reel off the order to the cook and watched as she filled a cup of coffee and returned to set it down in front of him.

"I heard there was some trouble in town." His smile dimmed as he spoke catching her attention.

Her face paled as she looked at him, her eyes tearing up before she spoke. "It was terrible," she murmured, "Those poor boys."

"Do they know what happened?" Sam asked quickly pushing for information.

"I don't think anyone rightly knows what happened. The newspapers say those kids were in some kind of sword fight."

Sam feinted surprise - asking, "Sword fight?"

"Yeah, strange huh," she answered. "But I heard a couple of the deputies speculating on the murders. They said it must have been some kind of reality show – where they dress the contestants up and make them fight. They think it happened somewhere else and the bodies were dropped up there by the old Sapphire mine to divert suspicion. It was horrible, the way they described it" she whispered shuddering.

"Sapphire mine, where's that?" Sam enquired.

"Oh you can't go up there," she whispered her voice rose in alarm as she stared at him. "You can't."

"I have no intention of going up there," he reassured her, lying smoothly.

Picking up his cup of coffee, Sam smiled, his dimples appearing again to capture her attention. "Thanks for the coffee, do you know if there's a room available at the hotel, I'm beat."

"Sure is, most of the reporters left last night after they took the bodies away." She turned to leave her eyes examined his face seeking some sign that he wasn't going to race up into the mountains and get himself killed like the other two. Sighing she turned away when she heard the ding of the bell indicating his food was ready.

Sam ate his meal in silence. Shoveling the food into his mouth he barely tasted it as he ran the information she'd given him over in his mind. The Sapphire mine – maybe – just maybe a devil's gate lay somewhere inside.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Chap 2 down, please R & R for me, I do so love hearing from you, next chap coming up in a couple of days. Huggers!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**DLB3 Sapphire Ball**_

Finishing his breakfast he threw a ten on the table and smiled at the waitress as he walked out the door. He had the information he needed; all he had to do was find the old mine the waitress had mentioned.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

From the back of the restaurant worried eyes watched as he walked out the door.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Stepping into the lobby of the hotel he was relieved to see the rack of tourist brochures. It only took him a few seconds to find the information he needed. His original intent to get a room flew out the window. Time was of the essence and he wasn't going to waste a single minute.

With a map of the area in hand he slid behind the wheel of the Impala and set the car in motion heading north toward the old mine. Ten minutes later he was grumbling beneath his breath. The old mining road was harder to find than he'd thought. On the third pass he found it. The road was battered, badly overgrown and washed out. Dean would have ranted at him for taking his baby up the treacherous track, but the young hunter didn't have the time to waste and he didn't want the cops finding the car and popping the trunk.

Swearing beneath his breath he gunned the engine and felt the car jerk into motion and out of the rut. He winced when he heard metal scrape against rock but he didn't stop. The Black Beauty would make it, she had too, he groaned silently. Another hour saw him within a mile of the mine when the jumble of rocks blocking his path drew him to a stop.

Hurriedly he parked the car in the shade of a big tree and camouflaged it as best he could. Gathering his gear he stood at the front of the car his hand resting on the warm metal. "I'm coming Dean," he whispered brokenly as the tears slipped down his face. "I'm coming,' he ground out.

With a final swipe of his hand across the fender he stepped away from the car and took a deep breath. Rushing up the trail he carelessly jumped from rock to rock heedless of the danger as his feet slipped and slid across the slick surface. One thought flitted through his mind- saving Dean. He was running out of time.

Clearing the rock pile he raced up the trail, his senses on full alert. _Nothing would get in his way now – nothing_, he vowed silently. A few minutes later he rounded a bend in the steep trail and skidded to a halt. Scrambling sideways he hid behind a large clump of bushes and surveyed the area.

The entrance to the cave was only a few feet away. Yellow police tape circled the area and blocked the entrance. A lone figure sat on a rock to the right of the entrance. A rent-a-cop – left behind to stand guard, was sipping from a thermos and munching on a sandwich. Thankfully he hadn't heard Sam's approach.

Determined that nothing would stop him Sam silently worked his way through the rocks and trees until he could get behind the cop. His dad's training paid off. Surprise was his ally as he leaped from cover and slammed the cop in the back of the head.

The man never knew what hit him. Dark brown eyes rolled upward as his body flew forward. He hit the ground and lay still.

Sam knelt beside him checking for a pulse. He'd hit the guy hard but hopefully not hard enough to crack the guys skull. It mattered, but not enough to make him pause. Pulling the cops shoelaces off he tied his hands behind his back. The guards' phone and radio went into the bushes.

With a final glance at the prone guard Sam pulled his shotgun and checked the load before stepping through the yellow tape into the cave. His eyes gleamed with hope when the smell of the dank musky cave hit him. The air held a hint of sulfur and the scent drew him farther into the cave.

Flashlight in hand he followed his nose. Ten minutes into the trek the tunnel forked. One went up, the other down. Stepping into the down tunnel he quickly lost the scent and backtracked. This time he took the trail leading up into the mountain and followed the rocky path. He didn't see the shimmer in the darkness behind him when the veil covering the cave entrance slipped back into place.

With each step he took, the heavy odor of rotten eggs grew stronger until it nearly overwhelmed him. Splashing holy water onto a handkerchief he tied the wet material over his mouth and nose.

Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, almost forty minutes passed as he moved quickly down the path. The tunnel went up and switched back left and right several times before it dropped into a steep decline heading back down into the bowels of the huge mountain.

Stumbling he nearly went down when the tunnel gave way to a huge cave. The flashlight in his hand flickered and went out. He sucked in a breath and stared in shock at the monstrous cavern in front of him. The rocky walls shimmered with an eerie green glow, lighting the cave and drawing him forward.

This was it, he knew in his heart a devil's gate was here. Hidden somewhere this cave was his hearts desire – the doorway to hell and his brother. Raising his hands he pressed them against the wall searching, hoping for some clue to opening the door to hell.

Beneath his hands the rock grew suddenly warm, a sharp stinging pain shot up his arms. He gasped and pulled back his eyes widening when the rock split beneath his hand.

A voice out of the darkness startled him and he spun to face the sound.

She stood quietly her anger or alarm kept tightly in check. "What do you think Sam?" she whispered. "Is it what you thought it would be?"

The young hunter took a step back his eyes widening at the sight of the woman standing in front of him.

The waitress he'd met in the restaurant a short while ago stood in front of him. The feel of the creature was different now, where she had been friendly and open before, now her eyes were cold and black radiating the evil that possessed her. "Bitch," he spit out.

"Tsk, tsk Sam," she smiled evilly. "Name calling, how childish. Is that anyway to talk?" The silky voice whispered. Waving her hand toward the wall behind him she snarled, "This is what you wanted isn't it Sam?"

Lilith waited, the smile tilting the waitresses lips was pure evil.

A hot muggy brush of wind filled the room. It brought with it the sharp stench of sulfur.

Sam sucked in a breath as the heat swiped at his skin, he didn't see the look of fear that entered the demon's eyes.

"What the hell do you want Lilith," he ground out.

"Want Sam, it's not what I want, it's what you want," she whispered seductively. "No matter what you do you can't save him. To you it's only been a few hours, but to Dean it's been a lifetime. He's not your brother anymore."

"He' is and always will be my brother Lilith, I love him and that's something you will never understand," Sam growled inching toward the gate.

The demon stepped forward reaching for him. "No he isn't Sam," she smiled a slow sleek smile, "He's one of us now."

Her words stabbed at his heart, but he wouldn't give up hope. Dean needed him. The young hunter swallowed hard and stepped away from the wall as it cracked and split open. Longing filled his eyes. Dean was there, so close he could almost feel him.

He turned to face the demon his eyes flinty hard as he looked at her. Why, he asked himself. Why was she here now? What was she up too? Their last encounter had scared the demon enough to flee the scene. Why face him here, now?

It dawned on him suddenly that she didn't want him to find Dean, didn't want him stepping through the gate and bringing his brother back. In an instant his resolve hardened.

Spinning right he leaped toward the crack in the wall. Behind him he heard her screeching in fury.

Lilith screamed. She couldn't let this happen not now – not when she was so close to seeing her plan come full circle. She couldn't let him save his brother.

Separately she knew she could beat them, but together Warrior and Seer wielded a power that could destroy her and every other dark creature that inhabited this world. She had to stop him.

Snarling she reached for the power and hurled it outward. Rocks were torn from the walls and spun in a swirling arc to pummel the young hunter.

Sam gasped at the onslaught and stumbled. Falling forward he landed on one knee the fingers of his right hand scraped against the hard surface of the floor. His arms flew up to protect himself from the attack… but he didn't stop moving. Gritting his teeth against the pain his fumbling fingers wrapped around a softball size rock.

Anger burned in his heart, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the stone. Picking his target carefully he twisted left and let the rock fly across the room.

Lilith felt safe behind the wall of her magic and was unprepared for the projectile that came flying her way.

Sam's throw was perfect, the rock smacked into the demon's forehead snapping her head backward. For a moment she stood in shocked dismay. One shaking hand reached up to touch the bruise. It never connected. Black eyes flickered as consciousness fled. "No," she whimpered before crumbling to the ground to lie in a heap in the hot dank cave.

The swirling rock clattered to the floor. Sam didn't hesitate. With a growl he leaped for the shimmering crack that he had somehow managed to open in the wall.

The shock of impact tore the breath from his body. He felt himself falling, falling forever. He spun out of control and tumbled through the blistering vortex. The scorching air burned his skin, he gasped but couldn't draw breath. He felt the darkness closing in, sadly he wondered if he failed once again.

He didn't know how long he fell, time seemed to have no meaning here. It was hot and painful a never ending agony that battered his body.

He gasped when the air around him suddenly changed, the darkness going from pitch black to hazy midnight gray. He landed hard his body thumping against the hard ground of what he thought was another cave. Gray ashy dust, filled the air and covered his body. He coughed and wheezed dragging in a ragged, shallow breath and coughed again. Leaden arms gave out beneath him as he tried getting up. He fell back, stirring the dust that tickled his throat.

Gathering his strength he tried a second time to gain his feet, this time he succeeded and stood on shaky legs. The darkness and sweltering heat was oppressive and the young hunter could feel the panic building inside him.

Brushing a hand across his eyes he swiped at the ash and blinked away the fog that threatened to blind him. A shaky hand reached in his pack and searched for the flashlight he knew was inside.

Sighing in relief he pulled it from its resting place, and flicked on the switch. "Dammit," he growled helplessly when the light failed to come on. Tapping it against his palm he swore beneath his breath knowing the flashlight was useless. He'd checked it before leaving – making sure he had fresh batteries. Batteries didn't work in hell, he supposed.

A snickering voice whispered in the darkness.

Sam spun to face the sound. Slipping his hand into the pocket of his jeans he pulled out a lighter and flicked the roller relieved to see the tiny spark of ignition. Flicking the roller again he watched in dazed wonder when the flame shot upward.

This was hell after all – the home of fire and brimstone. Turning slowly he gasped at the sight before him. Sucking in a terrified breath he took a step and turned to run.

They were there, waiting for him, their black eyes scouring his tall figure in anticipation. Scrambling and chittering they swarmed toward him. In the misty darkness of the cave they looked like a horde of insects as they skittered across the floor. Tongues clacking an unintelligle sound they raced toward him

Choking back a cry Sam stumbled backward flailing wildly. Desperately he batted them away, but still they came on. There were too many and they rushed in, sharp claws tearing at his clothes as they dragged him down. He fought hard but it wasn't enough.

Pinching, biting, kicking and scratching they dragged him to the floor. He saw the blow coming and turned his head but it was already too late. In the darkness of hell he screamed his brother's name before the black abyss of unconsciousness claimed him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A world away Lilith slowly regained consciousness . Looking around she screamed her fury. She hadn't prevent him from entering hell, but her sadistic nature formulated a plan. Dean's soul was hers – she held the contract. It would give her great satisfaction to finally be rid of them. With the gate still open she called one of her minions to her side. The plan was simple – pit one brother against the other. Only one would survive and the agony of knowing what he'd done wound quickly kill the other. Her plan was simplistic and perfect.

A dark creature answered her call and cowered at her feet awaiting her command. Lilith watched in satisfaction as the creature leaped through the gate and back into Tartarus. She stood waiting, staring intently into the swirling darkness inside the gate.

It didn't take long for her messenger to deliver her command and report back that her orders would be carried out with great pleasure.

Like a cat licking the cream from its whiskers, Lilith's tongue did a slow dance across her lips in satisfaction. With a wave of her hand the door to hell closed, the crack in the cave wall sealed shut behind her as she walked away without a backward glance. It was done! The biggest thorn in her side was gone. Now she had free rein on this plane of existence and she planned to rain chaos on its inhabitants with much joy. If a demon could feel joy, that is.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Another chappie down. I hope you are still liking and will take the time to review for me. Huggers all, hope to hear from you. Another chappie in a couple of days._**


	4. Chapter 4

**DLB4 Life is Death **

Sam woke with a start his body protesting the movement as he tried to sit up. It was oppressively hot and muggy hard to draw breath. Swearing softly, wary eyes scanned the tiny cave in which he sat. The walls were black as pitch and he stared in amazement putting his hand up to touch the glassy surface. The sheer silky surface was hard and smooth yet hot to the touch. Not hot enough to burn but uncomfortable enough to pull his hand back. He didn't have to wonder what had forged the glassy surface – he knew beyond any reasonable doubt. Hell Fire!

Carefully he sat up and reached for the ceiling just inches above his head. It was hard to see in the dim light of the cramped cave but from the feel of it his jeans and shirt had been replaced. Now he wore leather pants and knee high boots. His chest was bare but his hands and arms were covered in hard leather gauntlets leaving only his fingers visible. On hands and knees he crawled forward. Reaching the front opening of the small enclosure he growled and mumbled "Dammit," beneath his breath. A crisscross of gleaming black wire blocked his escape. Grabbing two strands of wire he shook and rattled the cage. The wire bent beneath the onslaught but didn't break. He tried several more times using both hands and feet to try breaking the barrier, but all to no avail. The black wire held. A tiny tear of regret coursed down his cheek.

He sat back and leaned against the wall, his clever mind working on a plan of attack or escape – whichever presented the first opportunity.

Sam stilled, he could feel the ground beneath him shake - reminiscent of an out of control Hockey game. He grimaced at the thought. The puck was in play and he was next up on the ice.

He could feel the walls rattling with the sounds of a thousand stomping feet.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

In the distance crackling – cackling voices filled the air as the gathered crowd cheered or jeered at their favored gladiator.

Sam had been right – the demons had set up a hellish fight club – pitting human against human.

When only one human remained a tortured soul was brought in to finish the human off. No human had yet been strong enough or cunning enough to defeat the demon soul. Either way if a humn won – he would face another until he eventually lost.

A huge cave was filled with barking voices. In the center of the cave on a raised dais two tired bedraggled figures stood. Blood ran in rivulets from multiple slash wounds on their bodies. The combatants had been fiercely reluctant. At first they circled, eyes wide with terror wondering how their lives had gotten so terribly broken. The horror of their surroundings, the creatures that beat at them were forever etched into their hearts and minds.

Both were tall one dark haired the other blonde, their bodies honed by long hours in the gym. One held a broadsword, its black double-edged blade raised in horrified protection. The other held a shield and an axe, their weight awkward in his sweating hands.

Equally matched they hesitated to strike but they knew the score – kill or be killed. If they didn't strike soon the demons lining the area would.

They heard the crack of a whip slice through the noise of the cave. Both combatants shrieked as the barbs tore into their backs. Blood ran from the deep slice spurring them to battle.

The jeering crowd pelted them with rocks tired of the inactivity.

The broadsword was the first to strike. The blade sliced through the air as a scream of rage erupted from the man's throat. The blade clattered against his opponents shield sending a shock vibrating up his arms.

Growling angrily now his opponent raised his shield. Lunging forward, the axe in his right hand swung upward.

The dark haired fighter was no swordsman the black blade hung heavy in his hands. Hissing he jumped back and brought the sword around somehow managing to block the axe's arcaimed at his chest. He prayed it was all a nightmare and he would wake up soon. But it wasn't to be. Fear of dying spurred him to attack. He didn't want to die; he had too much to live for.

The battle raged for several minutes both combatants struck punishing blows yet neither able to land a killing blow.

In their hearts they knew only one would survive the encounter; it was kill or be killed.

A slow burn of anger roiled in their gut.

Throwing caution to the wind the dark haired fighter raised the black sword and leaped to attack. The sword became suddenly light in his hand. The glittering blade sliced through the air where only a second before his opponent had stood. The fighter felt the blade shudder in his hands. His eyes widened in shock as he turned and brought the sword back into a blocking position.

The axe wielding fighter saw the deadly blow coming. Ducking down he rolled to his right bringing the shield up. He felt the brush of the sword across the flimsy metal. He came up hard and fast the shield slid down his arm as he grabbed the axe handle with two hands. Leaping into the air he delivered the final blow. With a growl of fury he struck and brought the axe down on the back of his opponents head.

The swordsman's eyes widened in surprise and shocked failure.

The axe blade cleaved through the man's skull splitting it wide. He body went stiff with shock. Brown eyes glazed over seconds before his body fell forward.

A hush fell over the cave at the sudden savage end to the fight. They stared hungrily at the body lying on the rock floor the axe blade still embedded in the back of the dark haired sword wielders skull.

The blonde fighter dropped to the ground the shield looped over his right forearm fell away, clattering to the rock beside him. Guilt washed over him at the thought of what he'd done. He'd killed a man – cold blooded murder is what they would call it. Shocked he turned his head away and buried his face in his hands. Great wracking sobs tore through his body. He barely heard the cackling demons as the cave erupted into pandemonium.

They felt his pain, drank it in, and fed upon it. The caves inhabitants broke into frenzied activities. Demons and monsters slapped at the air grabbing for every speck of pain that poured from the human's soul. They craved it, like a starving man craves sustenance.

It was long minutes before the crowd settled down. A mass of tiny creatures crawled onto the dais and pulled the dead fighter from the ring. The axe buried in his skull fell to the rock. The blade was dark with blood that dripped slowly to the ground.

The sound of clattering metal drew the victor from his daze. His eyes widened at the sight of the bloody blade. Scrambling backward he put as much distance between him and the blade as the ring allowed.

A call for silence filled the cave, but the dark creatures were loath to respond. It was only the tall presence of a higher level demon walking into the ring that captured their attention.

His voice was dark and gravelly when he spoke to the crowd but his eyes bore into the human's curled at his feet.

"This human has emerged victorious," he shouted to the crowd.

A riotous bellow of sound filled the cave once again.

The demon raised his hand to once again call the crowd to silence. He turned to survey the crowd a look of pure malicious evil twisted his face before he spoke, "What shall we do with him?" he roared.

"Eat him," several demons shouted into the void.

Wicked laughter filled the room.

On the ground the human fighter shook with fear his eyes wide at the thought of being eaten by these creatures. Desperation took hold and he spun to face the demon. Bloody hands grabbed for the Demon's cloak. Terror lace his words and his voice shook as he pleaded for his life.

"No, please," he screamed. "I did what you wanted, I killed him. You have to let me go. Please," he screamed again.

A soft light entered the demon's eyes as his hand came up to caress the man's cheek. "Yes, you did kill him – that is true," he offered. "The killing stroke was beautiful," the demon whispered. "A masterpiece," he offered.

"Then you'll let me go," the man screeched quickly.

"Yes," the demon whispered sincerely. "Yes I'll let you go," he promised.

"Thank you, thank you," the fighter screamed in relief. Babbling the young man rose slowly to his feet.

"You have to prove to me that the killing stroke wasn't just luck. Prove to me you have the skill to strike again," the demon growled. Standing tall the demon stepped back and turned away. "Then I will let you go."

The blonde fighter hissed at the injustice of his fate. Dropping to his knees he felt the hopelessness of his situation sinking into his soul. He would never acknowledge the fact the he wouldn't make it home, never see his family or his fiancée again. Hope blinded him to the facts, it was all he had.

He took the demon's words to heart. To be free of this place he would have to kill again. Despair and desperation colored his world. His mind took hold of the one ray of hope that suddenly flashed in front of him. The bloody blade winked in deadly intent. Slowly he reached for it. Numb with fear and grief he wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled it to him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Chappie 4 down - So what's next you say?? As if you have to ask - LOL! Please add a little joy to my life and review for me. Thanks, Huggers all!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**DLB5 Hell's Bells**

He heard it before he saw them. The scratching of claws as the creatures scrambled across the dark granite. The sound grew louder, drowning out the jeering crowd – as more and more of the creatures approached.

Backing up as far as he could Sam waited hoping that whatever was coming would pass him by. He hoped in vain.

They were an odd misshapen group of creatures that massed at the front of his cell, their skin gray, their eyes glittering in every color of the rainbow. They chattered in delight and came at him, the smaller of the creatures scrambling through the opening to swarm toward him.

Anxiously he waited, his heart thumping in his chest.

Leaping to attack he screamed his fear into the melee. Punching and kicking he threw them back, but there were too many.

Like a swarm of bees they covered him. Razor sharp claws scraped at his skin as they took him to the ground. Outside the cell a hundred other creatures – too big to fit through the gate screamed in anticipation.

Sam screamed his frustration, twisting and turning he continued to fight until he neared exhaustion. It soon registered in his mind that they weren't fighting back; they only wanted to contain him. Sighing he stopped fighting and waited, waited for them to come.

Their chattering voices quieted as the black gate of his cell slid open. The larger creatures rushed in to surround him. Claws scraped and scratched as they lifted him into the air.

He should have known they would be watching the gate when he came through. Ready to catch the latest offering the world of men had to offer. He'd been too wrapped up in worry and fear for Dean that he'd underestimated the situation. Now he was caught.

Sam wanted to scream and shout but the panic building in his chest kept him still. Had he failed in his quest to save his brother? He knew what would happen; he'd be place in the ring and forced to fight an innocent. Yet if he failed to do battle he would die and Dean's soul would be lost forever.

Forcing himself not to think about it, he studied the cave as he was carried along. There were many side cave, maybe one of them would offer him an escape route or maybe a place to hide, but first he had to get away.

He lay still in their arms, hoping to lull them into loosening their grip.

Dread rose up inside him as the riotous sounds from down the cave grew louder. He heard screams of anger amidst their cackling laughter. He twisted left and jerked his body upward and leaped to the ground sprinting away.

The dark creatures scrambled for a hold as their captive slipped from their grasp. Screaming in irritation they scuttled across the floor after their fleeing quarry.

He didn't get far. Hundreds of the creatures swarmed toward him and slammed him against the wall

Hissing angrily he fought them off but there were too many. Screaming his anger as they took him to the floor once again. There would be no escape this time as they dug sharp claws into the soft skin of his arms and legs.

Groaning under the onslaught he sighed and released the tension flowing through him. He would find a way out of this, find Dean and escape. He had too!

The dark cave widened letting in a breath hot air. Even with the mass of claws clamped around his body he could feel the cave vibrating with the sound of a thousand hissing, screaming, stomping creatures. Raising his head Sam drew in a ragged breath and stared at the huge cavern around him. The denizens of hell hung from every nook and cranny on the wall and ceiling. The floor was covered with them. The creatures carrying him hissed and spat as they moved slowly through the crowd toward a raised daiz in the center of the cave.

Sam wrinkled his nose at the coppery smell that wafted through the cave. Blood, and lots of it had been spilled here. Panic rose up inside him, but he had no where to run. Hissing silently Sam hardened his resolve to survive this and save his brother's soul. He could, he would make it out of here alive.

They little procession carried him up and unceremoniously dumped him in the center of the raised rocky platform.

A whistle from the side of the cave sent the monsters scrambling away.

Sam climbed to his feet and stood tall, his eyes flashing fire as he stared at the mass of monsters and demons around him. Baring his teeth he hissed and watched in amusement as his bravado sent several of the creatures scurrying for cover.

He was truly a formidable sight, well defined muscles were taunt and glistened with sweat. Leather clung to his legs like a second skin and rippled with each move he made. His chest was bare except for a single strand of leather that arched over his left shoulder and crossed to his right hip in front and back. Amber eyes flashed angrily through the damp tendrils of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

He was a well honed fighting machine, ready for battle. The crowd roared with delight.

Spinning right he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Dropping into a fighting stance his fists came up.

Moments later Sam hauled in a deep breath and watched as his opponent came up the steps. Mumbling beneath his breath he swore at the sight. He was just a kid, but already the experience had changed him. His eyes were red-rimmed but the brown iris's were now darker leaning toward black. With a murder on his conscious his humanity had fled – replace by the darkness that was hell.

Sam sighed knowing he couldn't kill him; at least he didn't want to have to kill him. The wild look in the kid's eyes told a different story. Sam knew they had promised him a way out. The demons would have offered him a kingdom if it would gain them something. He also knew they would never follow through on their promise. They had offered the kid hope and that is what he clung to now with ever fiber of his being.

Markus was his name, he was so damn confused he couldn't even remember what he'd been before this place. The only thing that mattered to him now was getting out – away from the insanity that surrounded him. If he had to kill again he would. Baring his teeth in a feral grin an inhuman growl escaped his throat. He could feel the excitement growing inside him, the rush of adrenalin as he faced his enemy across the ring. Reality had fled his mind was near to breaking.

With the ebony axe clutched in hands, he moved lightly bouncing from one foot to the other in anticipation. Markus knew the deal – wait for the bell, then strike hard and fast. His opponent would never know what hit him. Looking at Sam he saw only his freedom, not the man. He painted a picture in his mind of a something evil, something that needed killing, it was the only way he could reconcile his actions with his reality. He saw fear in the opponents eyes, he was scared, as scared as he'd been the first time he'd stepped in the ring.

Sam sighed. Yeah he was scared, scared that he wouldn't find his brother, scared that he would have to kill an innocent that didn't deserve what the demon's had thrust upon him. He'd been fighting the darkness all his life, taught by the best. John Winchester was a master, and his brother Dean was no slouch. Sam was as prepared as his twisted life could make him. A trip to hell only strengthened his resolve.

Hearing the clattering of metal on rock Sam stepped back as a black blade skittered across the ground to lie at his feet - waiting. He left it where if had fallen. Unwilling to play their game.

In front of him a dark demon walked into the ring. It was a beautiful creature with the face of an angel, but what lay beneath the surface was dark and hungry. The creature watched Sam, a sadistic smile on his beautiful face. The demon wondered why the kid didn't pick up the sword. Every fighter dragged into the area had hungrily reached for the dark blade, why not this one? The new fighter stood wary, waiting - yes, but unafraid. This one was different and it sent an uneasy shiver down his spine. Turning to face Sam the demon snarled, "Pick up the sword," he snapped.

Sam grinned his gaze taunting the demon, but he didn't comply – the ebony blade lay at his feet where the demon had tossed it.

The creature stepped closer; Sam raised himself to his full height, neatly topping the demon by several inches. The dark monster looked up, feeling a frission of fear as he did so.

It was Sam's turn to pull the intimidation trick. Peeling his teeth back he bared his teeth and growled ominously.

Startled the demon stepped back; anger flared and brought him up short. With magical speed the demon launched a fist at Sam's gut. The young hunter anticipated the move and spun away chuckling as the demon stumbled forward, thrown off balance when the blow didn't connect.

All around them the watching demons howled in glee to see one of their own taken down. It was a novel experience.

"You will pay for that manling," the demon snarled quietly.

Sam chucked in amusement; his right hand came up waving the demon forward. "Bring it on asshole," the young hunter mocked.

Hatred blazed in the demon's eyes. He held his anger in check knowing the human would pay. Maybe not at this moment, but he would retaliate when the moment was right.

Keeping his eyes on Sam he stepped back and raised his hands.

The cave went deathly silent. A long drawn out hiss from across the ring alerted Sam to the coming battle.

The demon's eyes blazed with hunger before he brought his hands together. The sharp booming sound of hell's bells rang out sending the clamoring crowd into a fever pitch of frenzied activities as they jostled for the best view of the coming storm.

Markus leaped forward swinging his axe in an arc over his head. Shouting with glee he rushed in aiming for Sam's neck.

The young hunter waited, timing his move to the last second before dropping low. A booted foot kicked out catching his opponent in the thigh.

The crazed fighter hissed angrily and stumbled sideways. Recovering quickly he lunged at Sam. Swinging the axe he took aim at Sam's midsection.

Leaping backward Sam narrowed his eyes. He could feel the anger rising and sent a right uppercut smashing into the fighter's jaw.

Markus saw stars, his head snapped upward when the blow connected. He flew backward landing spread eagle on the hard rocky surface. White hot agony tore through his skull. Still, the raging need to kill burned inside him. He sprang to his feet – wary this time as he studied his opponent. The axe swung from hand to hand in anticipation. A vicious grin twisted his lips, the new kid was fast and stronger then he'd anticipated, but he was faster. He'd already proven his skill and would prove it again.

Sam caught his opponent's eyes. He needed to talk to him, try to bring him back from the edge of madness. Sucking in a breath he spoke softly. "We don't have to do this," he whispered hopefully.

"Yes we do," Markus spit out. "If I kill you I get to go home." Tears shone in his eyes and his voice cracked as he whispered, "They promised me I could go home."

Sam sighed, the sorrow clenching around his heart as he spoke, "Demon's lie, man. This is nothing but a game to them."

"NO," Markus screamed. "I'm going home!" The wild glazed look returned. "Stand and fight like a man," he ground out. There was no doubt in his mind that he would win. "I'll make it quick, I promise," he shrieked.

Sam stepped back and raised himself to full height, "I'm not going to fight you," he growled quickly.

"Good," Markus snarled.

"But I'm not going to let you kill me either," Sam ground out.

The flicker in Markus's eyes gave him away as he leaped forward. The axe blade cut neatly through the air where Sam had stood a mere second before, a killing blow meant to split him in two.

Sam barely had time to move before Markus struck. Growling he leaped backward and rolled right.

Somehow Markus anticipated the move. Spinning right he came full circle and swung the axe like a golf club the sharp blade slicing through the material of Sam's jeans and grazing his right calf.

Sam hissed at the stinging pain. Ducking he stumbled backward when Markus pressed the attack.

Testing his leg Sam felt the hot stinging pain of the wound slice up his leg. Miraculously it held beneath him.

The hunter sighed and realization dawned. He couldn't stay on the defensive; sooner or later his opponent would land a fatal strike. Sucking in a deep breath he made his decision knowing he had no choice. Maybe he could wear his opponent down and not have to kill him. He had to try.

Turning left Sam somersaulted across the ring and grabbed for the sword. He felt the shock of the blade's power sizzle up his arm when he wrapped his fingers around the hilt. The darkness inhabiting the blade invaded his mind. Shocked by the invasion Sam almost didn't get the blade up in time to block his opponent's next brutal attack, aimed at his head.

Sudden anger curled in his gut. Anger brought on by the living sword now clasped tightly in his hands. The ebony blade came up to block the blow. Snarling Sam retaliated with a vicious swing that brought Markus up sharply as the razor sharp blade slid across his forearm biting deep.

It was Markus's turn to jump back and howl at the searing pain now coursing up his arm.

It was dark, sadistic, evil laughter that erupted in the cave. The horde surrounding the ring could smell the heavy, coppery scent of fresh blood wafting on the wind. The sound echoed from the walls fueling the anger and rage building inside the combatants.

Sam hissed in confusioin, he could feel the blade's satisfaction, whispering its contentment in his mind. Sam sucked in a breath as the dark entity pushed through his mind. He couldn't let that happen, if he didn't break the demon swords control he would be lost.

Gritting his teeth he fought for his survival. Pushing at the dark consciousness that battled for control he slowly, reluctantly felt it give ground.

The sword slipped through the air beating at his opponent, it was only Sam's strength of will that kept the blade from landing a killing blow. The entity was strong – but Sam was stronger, with a howl of sheer desperation Sam beat the darkness back and threw it from his mind.

The sword grumbled in surprise, no human had yet managed to control the blade. Reluctantly it heeded the hunter's demand astonished at the raw untapped power he could feel buried in the human's mind.

With a sigh of relief Sam leaped back and disengaged from the fight.

His opponents sudden shift in tactic was abrupt and unexpected. Surprised by the move Markus stumbled forward.

Sam watched in shocked disbelief as his opponent tripped and landed spread eagle at his feet. Seconds passed, but Markus didn't move.

"_Get up, get up, get up_," Sam pleaded silently.

Leaning forward, ready for anything Sam nudged the downed fighter with the toe of his boot. Still Markus didn't move. Only then did the hunter see the bright flow of blood spilling over the dark rocks.

Grabbing Markus's shoulder he rolled him over sucking in a horrified breath at the sight. The glinting blade Markus had swung with such ease was buried in his chest. The boy's eyes were wide and staring, glazing over as death settled in. The dark blade of the axe gleamed in satisfaction. It had grown tired of waiting. Like the sword in Sam's hand the Axe held a dark demonic entity in its depth.

Dropping to his knees Sam stared at the kid. The blade in his hand clattered against the rock sending a spray of sparks into the air. "No, no, no," he whispered forlornly. Raising his head he screamed his frustration. The piercing sound raged around the cave silencing the riotous crowd.

A thousand demons stared in bewilderment at the sudden end to their game. They wanted more, they craved it and didn't stay silent for long.

They hooted in disgust and charged forward up onto the dais where Sam knelt beside the deathly silent Markus.

Growling angrily Sam leaped to his feet and swung the blade in a vicious arc around his body. Four of the hapless demons scrambling toward him were slashed by the ebony sword. Their bodies tumbled in all directions as the black blade drank deeply.

The hunter didn't stop there, swinging the blade in a figure eight in front of his body he sliced and chopped at any creature that came within range.

Seconds later the rocky platform was littered with body parts. Enraged Sam screamed. The pent up anger and hopelessness exploded into the air, the eerie sound emanating in boiling waves from the human fighter out across the horde of demons at his feet.

They drank in his rage their squeals of delight reverberating off the ebony walls. A melee of madness broke out as the demons turned on each other. Tearing and scraping at each other the rage they harbored inside broke free.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**This was a fun chapter to write, I hope I got it all right. As mentioned previously I do not have a beta so all mistakes, be they spelling, grammar, punctuation or anything else are mine and mine alone. **_

_**I hope that you will take a minute to write a review and let me know what you think. No Flamers please. Huggers, hope to hear from you.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Credit and my heartfelt thanks for this story goes to DarkSupernatural. Plot bunnies were running thin and this awesome Lady planted an idea that had to be told. So thank you for being my muse. Just sorry I didn't say thank you before now. Huggers and on to the next chapter.**_

**DLB6 Surprise Surprise**

Sam felt helpless. The kid might not have died at his hands, but he had died just the same. The fury that had been building inside him for days exploded outward. Reveling in the darkness that surrounded him, the demons and dark creatures became his targets.

Teeth bared in a feral grin he swung the blade with ever increasing speed.

The black metal sang in his hands, the entity inside didn't care how much blood it spilled. It had been thirsty for too long. Now it drank its fill of demon blood wholly unconcerned that it had been unable to dominate the human.

The demon MC stared at the chaos his eyes wide with frustration and confusion. Chaos reigned as demon after demon was cut down by the enraged human. Wondering how he was going to bring the assembled crowd back into control.

A little black blob sporting one wide bulbous eye flew through the cave and stopped just inches from the demon's head. Tiny black wings were shredded and broken but somehow kept the little monster in the air. Buzzing around the demons head it shouted a shrill sound to capture his attention.

The demon snarled and snapped upright to stare at the creature. Brows furrowed in concentration the demon's head tilted left, letting the creature whisper its message into his ear. A grim smile of satisfaction crossed his lips as the story unfolded. He would take great joy in seeing the manling suffer.

Choosing to heed the command the demon stared at Sam. The manling had killed at least twenty lesser demons in his tirade. He knew the sword in the human's hand was in control and cared not a wit that demons were dying. He was here strictly for the entertainment and the blood, like the other he craved the smell and taste of fresh spilt blood.

In the blink of an eye he disappeared, reappearing a few seconds later with a silent slumped figure at his elbow. With a howling laugh he lifted his head and raised his hand.

The sound of his hands slamming together reverberated through the cave, but still the figure at his side didn't move, didn't flinch.

The gathered demons fell back and spun to face the sound.

Sam was a bloody mess when the ringing sound of hell's bells exploded through the cave. With the blade held high the young hunter turned ready for battle.

He stumbled at the sight displayed before him. "Dean," he whispered brokenly at the sight of the man, his brother standing a short distance away. Dark dank strands of hair hung in a matted mess to below his shoulders. His face was grimy and covered in soot. Sam hissed at the sight of his brother standing only a short distance away. For him time had passed quickly as he searched for way to find his brother and bring him home. That time had not been gentle to his brother. He looked aged, beyond his years, his skin gray and mottled, scared by the torture he had suffered.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest at the sight. "Dean," he whispered again, pleading with him to look up, see him, know that he had come for him. He wondered if he was too late, had his brother already been changed too much, had he embraced the darkness/

The MC demon howled in delight at the look on the manling's face. It was precious. Abject horror with a hint of fear was reflected on his grimy face.

Sam stared at the apparition standing a few feet away. This is what he'd searched for, what he'd planed and hoped and dreamed would happen. Finding his brother was his hearts greatest desire, but not like this. Never like this, he sighed woefully.

The silent figure stood ready, waiting. His body tense, he waited for the pain he knew was iminent. He'd come to expect it, it was part of him now, part of what he'd become. Staring at the floor he didn't blink, didn't acknowledge his surroundings even though he was very much aware of everything – almost.

Hazel green eyes now shot through with ebony threads stared at the ground. He'd changed, learning long ago not to look another demon in the eye. They hated it. He was a slave to their needs and desires, the lowest of the low, a bartered soul. They hated and despised him for the humanity that remained inside him.

Yet they could not stamp out the anger and rage inside him, feelings that demanding release, but held in check by the overwhelming numbers the demons arrayed around him.

He knew why he was there, the demon had demanded it of him, fight another demon or face more torture. He really had no choice. Fighting was what he knew. Fighting one of them would give him great pleasure. For the first time since entering the cave his eyes flickered forward toward his opponent.

Red rimmed eyes found his opponent a few feet away. He blinked, his brow furrowed in confusion as old memories flashed through his mind. Dark brown boots peeked out from skin tight leather pants. A flashing memory of a boyish face seared through his mind.

Growling beneath his breath he pushed the memories away. They were too painful.

The sudden blast of sound echoing through the cave captured every creature's attention. As one they turned to face the ring. They held their breath in anticipation. They didn't know who the newcomer was, but they knew he was one of them. The manling would pay with his life for killing so many - not that they cared, they enjoyed the bloodshed - demon or human it mattered not.

The MC demon stepped into the center of the ring. With a flick of his hand Markus's body disappeared the axe in his hand flew through the air to land at Dean's feet.

A flicker of something dark and deadly flashed in the newcomer's eyes when the axe skidded within reach, but still he didn't move. He felt more than saw the movement to his left. Sucking in a deep breath he tensed.

With a dancers grace he slowly leaned down and swept the blade up. Testing its weight he bounced the axe in his hand, taking its measure.

The axe blade sang with joy when it felt the fury pounding through the fighter.

The Dark Hunter hissed and spat when he felt the entity invade his mind, but he was stronger. Hell had made him angry and the power inside him had grown. With a vicious stab he shoved the dark creature back into the ebony metal of the blade. He'd felt the evil creature, shared its memories if only for a fleeting second. Saw every gruesome detail of Markus's death and the thousands of other innocents it had killed. The vile nature of the thing sent a surge of fury racing through him. With a thought he destroyed it.

An eerie keening sound was torn from the blade as the demon withered away into oblivion.

A thrill of satisfaction shot through the Dark Hunter, his first victory since being incarceration in hell. The surge of energy was heady; he could feel it sweeping through his body. Destroying the demon axe had unlocked some piece of him that had been walled up inside. Power and energy sizzled inside him.

Taking a deep breath he opened his mind. He could feel them, all of them. He could feel their hunger. A twisted little smile crossed his lips. He hated them; every dark demented creature in hell was his enemy. He realized suddenly that he wasn't like them, would never be. No matter how much they tortured him he would never be one of them. His past life would always define him. He had changed, he was no longer a hunter of the supernatural, he was now a demon slayer and hell was the perfect place for him. Lilith knew not what she had wrought when she'd bargained for his soul. He was the destroyer!

It started slowly, a tiny rumble deep in his chest. The sound grew louder and erupted into a deeply wicked laugh that sent shivers through more than a few of the lesser demons.

Reaching out with his newly discovered talent he sought the mind of the creature he would soon destroy - the fighter that stood in front of him.

What he found brought him up short. The touch was familiar somehow. A bright light surrounded the creature. He flinched at the blinding intensity of it. He sighed, drinking in the cool soothing touch of the silvery glow. It sank into his heart and mind healing the battered warrior.

He let the comforting touch slip away. Delving deeper he was shocked by what he couldn't find. The creature he faced was not evil, a touch of darkness was buried deep in his soul but there was no evil in the creature. He could not – would not fight him.

Resolved to his course he stepped back and lowered the axe.

At that moment the bells of hell rang out signaling the start of another fight. The Demon MC smiled in satisfaction.

The crowd roared in anticipation. The sound rocked the cave once again but high on the raised dais neither fighter moved. One stared with longing at he man in front of him. The other stared at the ground. It didn't surprise him when his opponent didn't attack.

The crowd slowly silenced when the spilling of blood was not forthcoming. They wanted it, needed it, resentment at the lack of action filled their damaged psyche. Some howled in protest and shouted obscenities at the reluctant fighters.

The Demon MC snorted in disgust. Stepping in close to the Dark Hunter's side he whispered a threat into his mind.

"Fight," he growled, "Or I will flay every inch of flesh from your body."

With a tiny shake of his head the Dark Hunter growled, but didn't comply.

A cry of agony was torn from his throat at the first strike of the barbed whip, but still he didn't move.

Sam screamed and rushed forward.

It took five strikes of the razor sharp barbs to set the Dark Hunter in motion.

The black barbs tore through the skin of his back. Blood ran in dark streams down his back soaking through his tattered shirt.

Stumbling forward, a black haze of hatred clouded his mind. He no longer saw the man standing in front of him. Only the agony! The cool essence that had bathed him in comfort fled before his rage. They darkness that now lived within him returned with a fury.

Leaping forward he swung the ebony axe in an arc over his head.

Sam yelped in surprise and leaped backward, the blade in his hand flew up to block the blow. "Dean don't do this," he cried desperately. "Dean," he screamed again hoping, praying he could break through to the man he knew still existed inside.

Some small part of him heard the name. A name nearly forgotten, nearly stamped out. The dark hunter hesitated briefly before the anger took over. Pressing the attack the fury built inside him, blinding him to everything but the pain and the need for destruction.

A feral grin twisted the warrior's lips as he pressed his attack. The axe blade flew with ever increasing speed. The power and hatred he held inside him burst free. His movements were a blur as he swung the blade meaning to kill the enemy.

Sam sucked in a breath as the sword in his hand screamed for freedom. The young hunter denied it and kept the blade in check, but he was quickly loosing the battle for his life. The man standing in front of him was harsh, deadly and furiously angry driven by pain and regret. He didn't know how to break through. Knowing his brother was walled up inside, he no choice but to try.

Sighing, Sam gave in to the blade and set it free. Leaping forward he aimed for the axe handle to the disgust of the ebony swords inhabitant.

The blow connected sending shock waves jarring up his arm. Clamping his teeth against the pain Sam tried again to awaken the man he knew was buried inside the creature that stood before him.

The dark hunter growled and stumbled backward as the shock of contact sent waves of agony racing up his arms.

Sam took advantage of the sudden lull in the battle. "Dammit Dean, look at me!" the young hunter shouted.

Startled by the sound the dark hunter finally looked up.

Sam choked back a cry at what he saw.

Hazel green eyes were shot through with ebony, the darkness had crept in. Was Dean lost to him forever? He prayed it wasn't so.

The dark hunter stared in confusion.

The Demon MC didn't give him a chance to remember. With a flick of his hand the barbed whip snapped out hitting the dark hunter in the thigh.

Hissing in pain the warrior dropped his eyes and brought the axe up. The feral smile returned. The enemy had declared battle, he would wage war. With blinding, unnatural speed he swung the blade. With one vicious blow he decapitated the enemy.

Unprepared Sam could only watch as the sharp blade neared.

Silence filled the cave as the gathered demons watched a head roll across the dais.

Howling in delight the Dark Hunter turned to face them, daring them to attack. He would no longer suffer their torment. Retribution was at hand.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Well, another nasty cliffie, but we loves them, loves them, loves them - Ha Ha she cackles evilly. Please take a minute to review for me. The story is almost complete so you don't have much longer to wait. Huggers_**


	7. Chapter 7

**DLB7 The Dark Lord**

Howling in delight the Dark Hunter turned to face them, daring them to attack. Baring his teeth he watched them. He would no longer suffer their torment. Retribution was at hand.

Sam's jaw dropped in surprise. The Demon MC had paid for his torment.

The Dark Hunter had retaliated and severed his head from his shoulders. The black clad body slumped to the floor. The keening cry of a dying demonic soul wafted through the air. Gone forever!

Deathly silence filled the cave at the sudden unexpected conclusion to the fight. A thousand pair of eyes stared up at the creature standing still and silent on the dais. Fear filled their heart. Pulsing power surrounded him, not dark as expected – but golden and destructive – and it was aimed at them.

Shocked by the sudden turn of events Sam could only stare at his brother in awe and confusion. Dean was still in there somewhere.

"Dean," he called softly

The Dark Hunters head turned slowly his eyes downcast.

"Look at me Dean," Sam pleaded.

He did! Slowly Dean's head came up afraid of what would be revealed. The darkness in Dean's pain filled eyes was slowly washed away as he looked up and stared at the man in front of him. They were so damn broken the both of them. He shook his head sadly knowing he could never go home. His brother had risked all to save him but it was useless. There was no way out for him. Dead was dead!

A sob was torn from his throat as he looked at the one thing he loved the most in this or any world. He leaned forward wanting desperately to hold his brother in his arms, hug him tight and never let him go but it wasn't meant to be. Instead he stepped back, his voice gravelly, filled with despair and desperation when he finally spoke. "Go home Sam," he whispered brokenly, "Go home."

"No, Dean," Sam cried quietly. "We go home together."

"I can't," the Dark Hunter ground out.

"Yes you can," Sam cajoled, "Together we can find a way out, I know we can."

Dean shook his head in denial. "There's no way out for me!"

Sam growled deep in his throat. Fear warred with anger, "What the hells wrong with you," he screamed. "I came here for you, to get you out. The least you could do is try!"

"You don't understand," Dean cried out.

Huffing angrily the young hunter stared at his brother. "No I don't understand Dean, why don't you explain it to me?"

Before he could reply a deafening roar filled the cave shaking the ground beneath them.

The gathered crowd erupted into chaos as thousands of demons screamed in fear as they scrambled away into the darkness.

Mere seconds later the cave was filled with deathly silence; every creature that had once stood there surrounding the ring disappeared in a flash of fiery light and smoke.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

In the dark reaches of Tartarus he stood on a black dais overlooking his domain. Head cocked to the right his eyebrows were tilted in astonishment as he listened to the faint sound of cackling laughter. Laughter was unheard of here. Lifting his head his body rose into the air and drifting toward the sound.

Below him a lyrical voice, familiar and adored captured his attention.

"What is it my love," she asked gently.

"Laughter," he replied distracted by the sound.

"Laughter," she replied in shocked amazement.

Drifting back to the ground he held out his hand, "Come sweet lady, we shall discover the source of this laughter together.

Twinkling amusement filled her eyes at the frown that marred his ruggedly handsome face. An air of boredom was his usual demeanor. What she saw written there now was bewilderment, a very unusual emotion for him.

Hades God of Tartarus shook his head. As the ruler of Hell, most days he lived a dark and bleak existence. Laughter was unheard of – it was usually the screams of a tortured soul that filled the darkness. He sighed! He had been lax of late, his mind filled with thoughts of his beautiful wife Persephone. She was the only light in his life, the only laughter in his soul.

He had lost track of his domain and the souls in his care. Growling beneath his breath he moved through time and space with Persephone at his side. It was time to take back the reins of control and put an end to laughter.

Persephone sighed, she loved her husband dearly but this place, Tartarus – or Hell as some had named it was desolate in the extreme. She spent months at a time in the dreary realm and was glad to escape its horrors, but she hated leaving him behind. She was the only comfort in his existence she knew that. She had tried pulling him from this place but he was its warden, guardian of the dark souls that existed there. He could not abandon them to chaos.

What ever this laughter was – was probably her fault. She had distracted him from his duties, lured him to the Elysian Fields and had her way with him. Sighing she glanced sideways at his handsome face. The spark of battle was in his eyes dimming the light of love he held for her. It was there, it would always be there – but the God Hades was on a mission.

Swiftly they flew across the gray skies toward the sound, their flight giving Hades time to survey his domain. He didn't like what he saw. The ranks had grown thin as many of the demons had found a way to cross over.

He sighed as the muffled laughter grew stronger, harsher. Not a true laughter but a cackling wretchedness, callus and unfeeling.

The resonating sound bit into her flesh, foul and evil as it wafted into the air. She shivered at the feel of the malicious laughter surrounding her.

Hades growled and pulled her close. He should have left her behind, or better yet sent he back to the Elysian Fields where the evil could not touch her. She was too precious to him; he should never have exposed her to this place. What she was feeling now, tore at his heart.

Persephone's laughing eyes turned somber as she watched her husband. His face was grim, his body tight with anger. She knew someone was going to pay dearly for their mistake, but the warmth of his body the gentle touch of his hand brought the smile back to her rosy lips. As long as she was with him nothing else mattered.

Hades dropped a gentle kiss on Persephone's cheek and pulled himself together. He was hell's guardian but he had grown lax of late. The inhabitants had taken advantage of his inattention and the human's were suffering. It was time to take back control.

Floating through a black gaping hole in the top of the mountains of hell he slowed their descent and touched down lightly setting his lover gently on her feet when the floor evened out below then. His jaw was set in harsh lines as the sound of wicked laughter echoed through the cave. Silently they moved toward the riotous laughter.

Slipping into the huge cave unseen Hades stared in amazement at the chaos that reigned. Thousands of creatures were gathered in the dark halls their jeers and laughter caused by the two figures clashing in a pitched battle on a raised dais in the center of the cave.

He watched his surprise evident when the battle suddenly took an unexpected turn.

He snorted in amusement. One of their own had paid dearly.

The amusement quickly faded replaced by the harsh visage of the God of Hell. It was time to intervene.

The power of his voice shook Tartarus. "What is the meaning of this," Hades shouted into the darkness.

Creatures scrambled for cover. They knew that dark booming voice intimately. Hades had arrived.

With an angry snarl he snapped his fingers sending all but two of the cave occupants to the fiery bowels of hell to await their punishment. With a second snap of his fingers the two remaining occupants went suddenly still – frozen in place.

Striding forward the God of Hell slowly, methodically made his way across the cave and up on to the dais, never taking his eyes from the problems that now confronted him. Persephone, his beautiful wife walked close beside him a frown of concern written on her face.

With a flick of his hand the spell that held the two fighters in place fell away. Staring at the wounded, bedraggled, axe wielding fighter, Hades eyes widened, "You do not belong here," he mumbled.

Old habits die hard and the Dark Hunter dropped his eyes to the ground. This being standing before him was no demon – and he could find no trace of evil in his soul, but there was power. More power than anything he'd ever touched. This was a God, a creature of legend!

The tortured bedraggled figure didn't respond, didn't look up. He stood as if carved from stone. It was only the glinting anger in his eyes that gave him away.

Hades chuckled, liking what he saw.

Sam flew to face the duo, "What do you mean he doesn't belong here," he demanded hopefully.

The God of Tartarus almost laughed. He turned a haughty stare on the human, impressed when he stood nearly eye to eye with the creature. Snorting he reached out with his mind, surprised when he felt the power sliding through the human form. The touch of something… Frowning he delved deeper but couldn't seemed to pierce the wall that protected him. His frown deepened at the puzzle that was Sam Winchester. Liking what he saw, he turned quickly away, he had another problem to deal with before he sent the human back to his own plane of existence. For the first time since entering the cave a small smile tilted his lips. He wasn't going to make it easy for him, a human, soul intact didn't belong in Tartarus and this one had jumped in head first without thinking about the consequences.

Ignoring him for the moment Hades turned back to the still figure of the Dark Hunter in front of him, and sighed.

"Your destiny is clouded now, hard to see. "Still...," he paused assessing the creature that was Dean Winchester. "You should not be here." Hades mussed. Slowly he circled the hunter's ravaged form. With a flick of his hand Dean's wounds were healed.

Still Dean didn't look up or acknowledge the powerful creature in front of him, but his body sighed with relief as the pain was washed away.

Stepping close Hades placed his right palm on Dean's forehead and closed his eyes. His voice dropped to a low whisper so even his beautiful wife couldn't here the words. He whispered, "I have a job for you!"

The hunter lifted his head, his eyes blazing with excitement as he gazed into Hade's eyes. Baring his teeth at the Ruler of Tartarus, a menacing growl of pleasure escaped the hunter's throat, "Accepted!"

Hades threw back his head and roared his laughter. Clapping his hands, Dean disappeared from view.

A piercing cry shattered the God's laughter into silence. Startled he spun to face the keening sound.

Sam screamed and rushed forward, "Noooooooooooo," falling to his knees where his brother had stood only seconds before. "Dean," he cried brokenly.

Hades whirled to face him, his brows puckered in concentration. "I smell the taint of death on you Sam Winchester. Why are you here?"

Sam ignored the God's question and leaped to his feet and jumped forward with the need to pummel something. He slammed against an invisible, impenetrable wall in front of Hades and bounced backward somehow staying on his feet. Rushing forward a second time he stopped just short of the barrier. "Bring him back," he growled.

"Or what," Hades sneered.

Sam saw red, he felt the heat of anger rising inside him. He didn't know what he was doing or why it was happening, but the cave around him shook with the pain of loosing his brother once again. He'd been so close and now it was all washed away. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling, the earth beneath their feet rumbled with anger.

Hades didn't acknowledge the human's tantrum, but the power of it surprised him.

Eyes snapping the God circled the shaking figure and slapped at the power surrounding Sam.

The furious energy building inside the young hunter slipped away. His shoulders slumped as the tension holding him up eased.

The God of Tartarus felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time - compassion. His heart skittered in his chest at the emotions that filled his heart for the human standing in front of him. Startled by the feeling he drew his anger around him. "What is he to you?" Hades taunted.

Eyes flashing with his need Sam replied. "Everything," The cry was torn from his heart; it was a cry of desperation and despair. The anger had quickly faded, his voice dropped low, urgent as he replied, "He's my brother."

"Your brother," he sneered. "Why should I give him back to you," Hades roared.

Sam didn't back down, but the hurt, the longing, the love he held for his brother spilled over. A shaking hand came up to swipe at the lone tear that coursed down his cheek. "Please," he cried softly. "I need him."

"A deals a deal," Hades ground out. "Your brother's soul belongs to me now." He chuckled; Lilith only thought she owned it. Once a soul was trapped in hell, it then belonged to him, to do with as he pleased. Torture and torment – or anything else he chose.

"You said he didn't belong here," Sam whispered.

"True," the God snapped. "Tartarus was not his original destination. His soul was destined for the peace and comfort of the Elysian Fields.

Sam's eyes widened and he stumbled backward. His legs gave way and he sank heavily to the gray stone of the cave floor. The fight inside him fled. Dean was destined for the Elysian Fields. He would no longer suffer hell's wrath. A joy like nothing he'd ever known filled his heart. The tears he'd held back broke free. Trembling hands covered his face as he sobbed not in sorrow but in happiness at the thought.

With the shine of tears still bright in his eyes Sam climbed slowly back to his feet. "Is that where you sent him," he pleaded. "Is Dean there now?"

Hades fierce gaze stabbed at the young hunter. A sneering tilt lifted his lips as he replied, "No!"

The hurt shock tore through Sam's broken heart.

A light touch of Persephone's hand on Hades arm softened the harsh lines of his face. He felt the gentle touch of her thoughts_. "I want him to suffer a little before I let him go,"_ he whispered.

"_Has he not suffered enough, my love,"_ she returned softly.

Slightly chastened he pouted mulishly, "_No._" But the look on Persephone's face was implacable.

Grumbling beneath his breath he resigned himself to the inevitable. "_What would you have me do my love_," he sighed.

Smiling at the gruff tone of his voice Persephone leaned forward and brushed a light kiss across his cheek. "_Let them go_," she breathed softly.

_Not him but them_, she had whispered and Hades ground his teeth in frustration. It was a childish gesture but he scraped the toe of his right boot across the rock in consternation. He wasn't a cruel god, but that was how the world perceived him. They never saw the other side of him, the side that sent deserving souls to the Elysian Fields. They only knew of the darkness and torture that Tartarus offered to the condemned rotting souls. He had no choice. Hell was his dominion and he would rule it with an iron fist.

Sighing he turned to his lovely wife knowing he would grant her anything she desired. Hades slipped a resigned smile on his face. "_As you wish, my love_," he chuckled.

Hades spun to face the young hunter, "Sam Winchester you carry a living soul within your body – I cannot keep you here. Yet I cannot just wiggle my nose and send you home." He could but he wasn't going to. "What shall we do with you now," he offered ungraciously.

Persephone winched but cracked a smile at her husband's joking words. He watched too much TV. She loved his strange sense of humor – which he rarely showed, so even these silly words made her laugh.

Hades eyes sparked with suppressed frustration as he watched the young man in front of him. He was tempted - sorely tempted to grab the boy by the scruff of the neck and kick him back out the way he came in, but his brother presented another problem. Dean Winchester made a deal - death for life.

The deal had been fulfilled. Dean's soul had gone to hell. What to do about him now was the big question. Tartarus had rules – booting a wayward soul out of hell because he felt like it wasn't one of them. A deal had to be made.

Sam stood straight and tall but even his six feet four inch height did not get him eye to eye with Hades. "I won't leave without my brother," he shot back.

Hades snorted mockingly, "Why did I know you were going to say that."

Eyeing Sam the dark God leaned close assessing the man, as before he liked what he saw, "Ok, I'll make you a deal," Hades offered.

"What kind of deal," Sam asked warily.

Hades smiled, hooked!

"I will set you on the path that will lead you out of Tartarus. Many will try to stop you or distract you from your path. If you make it out, your brother is free and will live again."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. He'd already faced a little of what hell would throw at him. He'd been a hunter most of his life, and battled the dark creatures for years. It wouldn't be easy of that he was certain. He sighed, knowing he would face any trial if it meant bringing Dean back, but it sounded too easy.

"That's it, follow the path? What's the catch?" Sam asked cautiously. "There's always a catch," he ground out.

Hades smiled and circled the hunter, "How right you are Sam," Hades chuckled. "Many have taken the deal – few have bothered to ask that very question."

"It's simple enough so I will tell you, to win your brother's soul free of hell don't look back, not once, not ever, not even a little. If you do – your brother will be lost to you forever."

Leaning forward he stabbed the young hunter with a fierce gaze. "FOREVER Sam," the Dark God whispered slowly. "If you fail, your brother will be chained here for all eternity and I will personally see to it that he suffers."

Sam hissed and felt the knot of stress growing in his gut.

"Don't look back," Sam replied thoughtfully. It seemed such a simple thing, but he'd learned from experience that nothing in this world or the next was ever simple. _What if he failed_?

He wouldn't fail!

He had a chance, one chance to save Dean. He wasn't about to turn it down now. "Deal," he answered holding out his hand to seal the deal.

Surprise washed across the God's face. He knew he was a handsome man – some would call his features perfection. Most men feared him. Few had ever offered to touch him or offer their hand to the Dark God, Sam Winchester was different.

He felt no fear in the human as he reached out and clasped the man's hand, only determination. Maybe, just maybe this man would win.

Hades whispered a word and the air around them crackled with power. In the blink of an eye Dean reappeared to stand behind Sam. Eyes downcast the dark figure didn't move didn't blink or acknowledge his surrounding.

Sam hissed and caught himself before he turned back to look at his brother. Instead he looked up to find approval in the God's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

Hades chuckled, "Don't thank me yet Sam Winchester," Hades answered quickly. Turning to the side Hades took a deep breath. The air around them hissed and changed. The cave walls slid away. In the blink of an eye they stood on a cliff overlooking the searing earth of hell. Thousands of feet below them the rivers ran red with molten lava. the ravaged earth hissed, steam filled the air with the rancid smell of sulphur.

Pointing to his right Hades whispered slowly, "This is your path Sam, tread carefully. From this point forward I cannot help you.

The young hunter eyed the God one last time before he moved away and stepped onto the path that would lead him out of hell. "_Thank you_," he breathed with heartfelt gratitude.

"_Don't look back_," a soft voice whispered in his mind, he wanted to turn, thank her. He didn't. Instead he strode determinedly forward, his eyes straight ahead on the path that lay in front of him.

Minutes later Sam groaned beneath his breath. He was tired. Thirst and hunger were already gnawing at his gut. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten or even how long he'd been there, but none of that mattered. His path lay ahead of him, he would not fail - not this time!

Long strides carried him across the treacherous rocky trail, he felt a sudden bump against his left thigh. Surprised when he felt the familiar hilt of the dark sword in his hand, it hadn't been there a second ago – or had it, he asked himself. Didn't matter, he was just grateful he had a decent, if slightly unpredictable weapon at his disposal.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Persephone was startled by the look of pure joy on her husband's handsome face as he turned toward her. "What is it my love?" she asked curiously.

Hades chuckled. More than one deal had been struck that day. A deal that would greatly benefit him. The tall figure of Sam strode confidently up the trail, behind him, a shadowy figure, seen, yet unseen marched close behind him. "There stands Hell's Champions my love," he whispered happily

Hades turned away to plant a soft gentle kiss on his wife's cheek. He had set them on the path, his job was done, his mind already on his beautiful wife and how he planned to spend the afternoon.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Woo Hoo! Another chappie down, a few more to go – story is close to completion. Please take a moment and let me know what you think by way of a review. No flamers please. Huggers, have a great Supernatural kinda day!!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Some of you may have noticed that I have borrowed a few characters and ideas from Greek Mythology. I have of course taken some liberties and made them my own - sort of. Hope you and they don't mind.**_

_**On to another chapter! Please Review and make a starving heart happy.**_

**DLB8 Path of Destruction**

Dean," he called softly. But the familiar voice did not answer his call. For a brief moment he wondered if Hades had tricked him. A soft brush of the wind across the back of his neck made his gasp. Drawing in a breath he whispered his brother's name again, "Dean?"

For a second time the wind brushed against his neck, more forceful, more insistent this time, almost like a slap upside his head. Sam chuckled and sighed with relief. Dean was with him, that's what mattered.

He didn't know how long he walked, forever it seemed. Hot and tired Sam wanted desperately to lie down and sleep.

Catching the thought from his mind the sword in his hand answered snidely, "_Go ahead, I'll stand guard."_

"_Yeah right, you'd probably find some creature hiding in the rock and subvert it before you stabbed me in the back."_

"_You wound me,"_ the sword pouted. _"You are the strongest human I've ever been joined with. I like you."_

"_Oh great_," Sam mumbled. _"He likes me. I'm now best buds with an evil sword. I'm jumping for joy,"_ he grumbled.

"_Buds, yeah we're best buds," _the sword replied happily ignoring the sarcasm in Sam's voice.

"_I'm not evil," _the sword pouted a few seconds later.

Mumbling beneath his breath he ignored the words Sam spoke out loud to relieve the deathly silence surrounding him. "_Oh gods will this nightmare ever end. All I want is a burger, a big thick juicy burger with fries, a soft bed and a cold beer."_

"_What's a juicy burger_," the sword broke in.

Resigned, Sam figured it was better to make a friend of the sword rather than antagonize it. "_Food_," he replied quickly. "_Nourishment and energy for a starving body_,"

"_Food_," the sword whispered in his mind. "_Like blood? Blood gives me energy. I like blood don't you?"_

Sam rolled his eyes disgusted at the thought but he didn't say it. "_Not really_," he answered. "_I'm more of a meat n potatoes kinda guy_."

They talked for a while and Sam was almost enjoying the swords presence. At least it took his mind off his current circumstances, a trek through hell.

Stumbling he swore beneath his breath. "_Is it always so damn dark down here?"_

"_Dark – what is dark?"_ the sword whispered.

"_You know, without light_," the hunter grumbled.

"_Light_," the sword whispered reverently. _"I lived in the light once. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Will you take me to see the light,"_ the sword implored.

"_I don't think so_," Sam answered quickly.

"_Why_," the sword mewled.

"_Because_," Sam answered choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to piss the sword off, but he couldn't afford to take the sword out of hell. At the moment it was behaving, but in the human world in the wrong hands, it would wreck havoc, he just couldn't take that chance.

"_I don't even know if I'll ever get to see the light again_," he breathed quietly.

The sword sighed. It was all about power and domination. It hated not being in control, but for a short time it had existed in the light. That had been the most wonderful existence the sword had experienced in its long life. Light was life without evil – but he didn't know that.

The entity living within the sword wanted to get back to the light. It needed to get the human to trust it – make a deal. Hell was all about deals.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The sword grumbled as it thought about its past.

In a far away land in a time long gone the swords first owner had been a simple farmer. Dragged from his land and his family the farmer was forced into Rome's army. Because of it, the farmer harbored a great deal of hatred in his heart. Though his skill was not great the young soldier was lucky. His unit had invaded a small town, pillaging and plundering as soldiers were want to do. He'd found a beautiful silver sword in the local blacksmith shop and took it for his own.

The sword was light in his hand, made by a master, but the longer the farmer was kept from his home the more the hate in heart festered. A year passed and word came that his family and farm were gone, murdered in their beds when he was far from home unable to protect them. His mind cracked and the man – the farmer inside him fled forever. The soldier wanted revenge.

He became the ultimate warrior; the sword in his hand drank deeply. He no longer knew the difference between friend and enemy.

One night he came upon a caravan. He heard their laughter, their lilting song lifted into the air and the rage swirling inside him burst free. He killed them – killed them all.

One lone woman survived for a short time. She was the matriarch of the gypsy clan and a powerful witch. He waged his war and ravaged her caravan and killed everything she held dear. She cursed the soldier and the blade he held, promising that their hearts desire would always elude them. They would die unfulfilled.

The soldier had laughed in the witch's face as he swung the blade and cleaved her in two. His hearts desire was already gone.

There after with every stroke of the blade, every life he took, evil crept into his soul. Hatred turned to darkness and he took the silvery blade with him. He wanted his enemies dead, he wanted everyone dead.

The light had gone out of both their lives as the curse took shape. The soldier his blade in hand fought many, friends and enemy alike. Nothing had stood in their way as they hacked and slashed their way to the top of the heap. Each battle, each victory should have made them happy. It didn't. Satisfaction at their accomplishments eluded them; they wanted more – always more. The final victory was so close he could feel it, but never taste it. The soldier's humanity fled, he became nothing but a vicious killer.

He would soon have become a General but the final prize escaped him and with each swipe of the blade he fed the sword. The darkness grew stronger with each taste of innocent blood until the power could no longer be contained. Surging through the hard metal of the blade it sought relief. Bursting free a new life took shape inside, easily dominating the soldier. The blackness of the soldier's heart consumed the light, the silver of the blade turned to glistening ebony.

The need for power consumed the sword, he found the human to be weak, even with all the battles he had won the lands he had conquered the blade knew he was the cause, not the man. Tired of the mewling creature the blade plotted his death.

Just as the last battle was ending the soldier stumbled. The blade in his hand turned against him. The sword slipped through his fingers. The dark sword flipped over and became wedged between two stones. The soldier starred in horror as he pitched forward. He could hear the swords laughter as the blade pierced him through the heart.

The curse had won half the battle. The soldiers' desire for revenge remained unanswered.

Hundreds of years later after corrupting many soldiers in its quest for glory and power the sword found the perfect companion or so it thought. A demon, as dark and evil as it was.

The demon stood staring at the ebony blade, feeling the power it held in its dark depths. With one touch of the hilt the sword sighed in satisfaction. The demon grinned maliciously as the entity crept into his mind. He played the blades game, luring it into a trap. The sword only thought it was in control.

The demon howled in delight and fled back into the depths of hell. The curse had struck again, denying the sword its desire for victory. The blade became the demon's slave, drinking only when the demon allowed. It despised what it had become. The only time it felt even a modicum of pleasure was in the ring. But that pleasure was quickly snuffed out when the fighter died and he was snatched back into the demon's control.

Now was his chance, the Demon who had controlled him for thousands of years was dead. Getting back into the light was his only chance of fulfilling its dream of ultimate glory.

"_I can help you_," the sword whispered. "_If you let me see the light I'll protect you_," the sword cajoled.

Sam hissed at the offer. Refusing would set the blade against him. Accepting would mean taking the sword out of Tartarus. How the hell was he going to solve this dilemma? Mulling over the sword words he knew he didn't have much choice.

"_Protect me how_," Sam asked skeptically?

"_I will watch over you while you sleep. Fight for you when you are attacked."_ Reluctantly as if it pained him to say the words the sword continued. "_I will work with you, not against you to get us out of here_," the sword stated calmly.

Inwardly Sam groaned at the thought of partnering with the sword. Somehow he knew the sword wouldn't hesitate to break the deal if the opportunity arose. He hated having to depend on the evil blade to win his way free. Could he even begin to trust it? Could he chance refusing? What choice did he have? '_None really_,' he mussed silently.

Sighing he asked, "_How do I know I can trust you. That when you get what you want or something better comes along you won't abandon me?"_

"_You don't_," the sword replied cautiously. "_But I want out of here as much as you do. I won't say I'm sorry, I did what I had too to survive. You can't blame me for that. I didn't start out this way. Through no fault of my own I was cursed_," the sword swore vehemently. _"Guilt by association, I killed because I had too, you would do the same thing_."

"_Maybe_," Sam offered, "_But you enjoy it too much_."

The sword swore softly needing this deal. It hated the darkness in which it now lived and desperately wanted to see the light once again.

"_Do we have a deal or not_," the sword snapped. The blade had learned long ago that a deal struck in Tartarus was a deal that could not be broken unless both side agreed. It would keep its promise to Sam, but Sam didn't know that!

"_Deal_," Sam whispered.

"_Deal_," the sword answered happily.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Just a little background on the sword - hope you don' t mind. Sam needed an ally so I gave him one. Please take a momento and leave me a review - no flamers pretty please, but constructive criticism is always welcome. Huggers, have a fine and fancy kinda day.**_


	9. Chapter 9

**DLB9 See No Evil**

Together hunter and sword made their way through the ravaged land that was Tartarus.

The sound of tortured souls was all around him. It crept into his mind and ate at his soul. Sam could feel the panic rising inside him with each breath he took.

"_You need to rest_," the sword warned him. "_If you let me in I can block the sound."_

Grinding his teeth at the constant grating sound playing in his head Sam sank to his knees. "_Ok_," he breathed painfully.

Taking a deep breath he let the swords consciousness in. Sam gasped at the evil he could feel invading his mind, but the sudden relief from the torturous sounds was a blessed relief.

"_Sleep_," the sword whispered. "_I shall wake you if danger approaches_."

Sam closed his eyes and slid forward to lie on the hard rocky path. His eyes remained forward, never looking back. Hours later he was abruptly pulled from sleep when the sword sent a sharp sting of energy into his hand. Eyes wide, he blinked the sleep away and jumped to his feet.

"_Danger approaches_," the sword whispered in his mind.

Sam sprang to his feet and brought the blade up. "_What is it," _he asked quickly.

"_Hounds of Hell_," the sword snapped. "_They smell you and have come hunting_."

"_Where are they now_?" Sam snapped.

"_Behind you," _the sword screamed.

Sam didn't turn. Looking back was not an option. Leaping forward he ran up the trail, but the scraping scrabbling sound of claws on rocks were quickly closing the distance between them. "_Don't look back, don't look back," _he chanted silently

"_Stand and fight,"_ the sword screamed in his mind. _"We can beat them."_

Sam didn't reply but he could feel the swords displeasure. "_Just tell me where they are_," Sam screamed back.

"_Leaping now_," the sword cried.

The young hunter did the only thing he could. Closing his eyes he dropped low and spun to face the oncoming creature. The dark sword split the air and connected with the airborne hellhound. The jarring impact set Sam's teeth rattling as the razor sharp blade tore through skin and bones.

The hellhound screamed in agony and burst into flames.

The sword drank deeply and sighed in satisfaction. "_To your right_," the sword screamed, "_It's coming in low_," the sword warned him.

Sam spun left, turning his body to face back up the trail. Bringing the blade up in an arc across his body he drove the black blade deep into the oncoming creature's side. Impaling the howling creature on the blade Sam hauled the hellhound into the air and threw it as far away as he could.

The blade in his hand twisted as it hunted for the creature's soul. The sword jerked upward and sliced into the hellhounds black heart. The creature exploded sending a spray of flaming ash into the hunter's face.

Sam hissed and swiped at his face brushing away the searing oily ash that clung to his skin. He could feel his skin burning. Hissing at the pain, he scraped at his cheek momentarily forgetting the third hellhound now stalking its prey.

"_In front of_ _you_," the sword screamed in panic.

Sam threw himself forward and hit the ground - hard.

A cry of agony was torn from his throat as the hellhounds rear claws scraped across his shoulder as it passed over him. The powerful blow slammed him to the ground. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. He groaned and felt the darkness creeping in.

Disgusted with the human's sudden lack of fighting skills, the sword took over.

Nerves fired, muscle and bones screamed in protest as the sword flipped the hapless young hunter onto his back. Sam scrunched his eyes shut and let the sword loose.

The black blade flew upward, slicing across the hellhounds hamstring. Black Ichor flowed down the ebony blade. Drinking in the evil essence of the hellhound the blade sang with joy as it pulled Sam to his feet.

Sam dropped his head but didn't open his eyes. Senses on overload he struggled to listen to the sound of the hellhound as it slid to a halt a few feet away.

The hellhound wasn't a terribly intelligent creature; it knew only one task – to kill. With a swipe of its black tongue across razor sharp teeth the hound leaped into the air.

Sam tried to step back, but the ebony blade kept him riveted in place. The huge creature slammed into the hunter and took him to the ground.

The air flew from his lungs as the creature landed on top of him. He expected agonizing pain, when that didn't materialize he drew in a ragged breath. The creature was dead. Rolling sideways he dumped the creature's body to the side of the trail and took back control. Sliding the blade out of the hellhound's body he stood up. He could feel the blades resentment at the loss of the hellish soul.

The sword didn't protest, in truth it had no choice, Sam's mind was too strong a battle would hurt them both badly and the sword wanted out of hell. Beside, the blade had feed deeply off the hellhounds and its need to dominate was sated.

"_Which way is up the trail_?" Sam asked cautiously.

"_Why_?" the sword asked in puzzlement.

"_Because_…" Sam hesitated could he afford to tell the sword the truth. Then again – what choice did he have? Maybe, just maybe he didn't have to tell the whole truth.

"_I can't look back down the trail. That was the deal I made with Hades. I look back and it's all over."_

The sword remained silent and Sam decided he needed to drive his point home. "_If I look back neither one of us will ever see the light again."_

The sword jerked in his hand and dragged him left until he was facing up the trail once more. Looking down at the trail he dared to open his eyes and slowly look up. The familiar point up the trail he had noticed earlier was ahead of him. "_Thank you_," he whispered sincerely.

"_Yeah well, I want out of here as much as you do_," the sword grumbled.

Taking a deep breath Sam once more moved up the trail. The sleep had done wonders to renew his energy. All around him he could hear the sounds of creatures skittering alongside the trail. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there waiting for him.

Several hours later he was unprepared for the monster that dropped out of the darkness and crushed him to the ground. Dark claws bit into his back tearing through the shirt.

Sam howled at the pain and struggled to pull the black blade from the belt at his hip. Pinned beneath him the blade screamed to be set loose on the creature, but no matter how Sam tried, he could not pull it free.

Abandoning the weapon Sam splayed his hand across the trail searching for a weapon. It seemed like an eternity before his fist closed around a large rock. Grunting with the effort Sam closed his eyes and twisted bringing the stone up to smash it against the side of the winged creature's skull.

The dark creature squawked in pain and fell sideways. Hunger fled as the agony of the blow cracked its skull.

"_To your right_," the blade screamed.

Rock in hand Sam tilted his head to the side listening for the creatures mewling cries of pain. Praying he estimated the sounds correctly the young hunter slammed the rock down once again into the monster's skull. The dark creature went silent. It's thrashing body stilled as the life that held it bound to hell fled.

"_Chop off its head, chop off its head_," the blade screamed in Sam's mind

Pretending not to hear the blade Sam stumbled backward and turned to face up the trail once more.

Slowly he opened his eyes and sank to his knees in exhaustion and despair. Tears of pain streaked down his ash covered cheeks. All he wanted to do was lay down and curl into a ball and sleep forever. Shaking hands came up to cover his face.

"Dean," he whispered brokenly. "God Dean, I can't do this anymore," he cried softly.

His head came up as a light breeze caressed his cheek. Dean was there, close by counting on him. "Dean," he whispered again needing to feel his brother's touch even if it was only the wind.

The soft breeze lingered this time. The cool touch surrounded him easing his mind before slowly drifting away.

At his hip the blade was silent; fuming at the loss of the blood and energy wondering who this Dean was that Sam called to. There was no compassion in the blade only the need for power. Piqued by Sam's failure to let it feed the blade sent a sharp jolt of electricity through the sheath into Sam's hip.

Sam yelped and grumbled. "_What_," he growled ominously his self-pity quickly washing away as he talked to the sword.

"_Why didn't you let me chop its head off_?"

"_Sorry_," Sam mumbled contritely. "_The creature hurt me badly, I just needed to sit down before I passed out_."

Grumbling in disgust the blade wanted to rail at Sam. The human's frailty annoyed it.

"_You can have the next dark thing that attacks me_," Sam muttered.

"_Promise_?" the sword grumbled.

"_Promise_," Sam answered quickly, "_It's all yours_!"

"_Great_," the sword whispered happily once again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Chappie down, a little struggle and angst for Sammy. Its not over yet though, a couple more chapters to go. Please take a momento to review for me. I do love hearing from you._**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Another fierce battle for Sam - this of the heart, mind and body. Is he strong enough to survive what hell can throw at him?? Only time will tell. Please review for me, I like hearing from you. Huggers_**

**DLB 10 Siren's song**

Life had been boring of late. With a wistful sigh she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The jewel encrusted brush in her hand caressed a slow path through her silken blonde hair. A long sigh escaped her again! She was tiny and petite with bright, cerulean blue eyes that stared into the mirror. She was one of the most beautiful creatures to ever be born. A third sigh wafted into the room.

A dark silky voice whispered her name impatiently. "Jennifer darling, what is your problem."

"I'm so bored Khandra, bored, bored, bored, and I'm hungry" she pouted prettily.

The newcomer was tall and slim her black hair was pulled back from her face and plaited down her back. She was an exotic creature, with high cheekbones and huge almond shaped eyes. Those same eyes were the color of amber with golden specs that twinkled in the light. It was her turn to sigh, she knew her sister too well. She was looking for sympathy and until she got it she would make Khandra's life miserable.

"Jennifer darling, why don't you get off your petite little ass and go find something to eat, I'm sure you can find a likely meal in this miserable place. Something delectable that will tickle your fancy little sister?"

Though not of blood they were sisters of circumstances, sisters in arms, sisters in destruction and they were very good at destruction. They were Siren's – created to guard Persephone – but they'd failed in their task. Persephone had been abducted by Hades, God of Tartarus. For their failure they had been banished to Tartarus to serve out eternity.

"Ugh, have you seen what's out there," she grumbled. "I wouldn't touch that rabble even if I was dying."

"You can't die little sister, you're immortal," she told her companion.

"Don't remind me," Jennifer grumbled.

Chomping her teeth in anger, the petite blonde stared into the mirror studying her reflection.

She craved men's souls as a starving animal craved sustenance.

Though outwardly calm in demeanor anger burned in their hearts. They felt they had been condemned unjustly. Living in Tartarus was pure torture. It was rare that an untouched soul strayed into their path. The inhabitants of hell usually warned the new arrivals. Thankfully some failed to heed the warning; those misbegotten creatures were soon caught in the web of the Siren's Song, enthralled forever with no hope of fulfillment, but Tartarus had been quiet of late.

'Too quiet,' she mussed thoughtfully.

A hundred brushstrokes later she felt a jolt of hunger slice through her. Raising her head into the air she sniffed the breeze. A tinkling laughter filled her voice as she called her sister. "Khandra, come quickly."

Drifting into the room Khandra's eyes sparkled with excitement, "I feel it little sister, time to play," she laughed.

Lilting and lyrical their beautiful voices drifted on the wind calling out to an unsuspecting soul.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam was tired; his aching body was reluctant to move. He didn't know how long he'd been walking but he was past exhaustion. Each attack had drained him. Several of his wounds were still oozing blood, the loss tearing at his strength even more.

He hoped Dean was still with him, with all the trials and tribulations he wondered if he had stayed true. Not once to his knowledge had he ever looked back. He prayed he was right

Every once in a while he felt a gentle brush across his shoulder, he had to hope it was Dean letting him know that he was still there. Several times Sam had called his brother's name, but Dean had never answered in words only the soft brush of light breeze had greeted each call. He had nearly given up hope, but a Winchester never gave up – not ever. A line from a silly movie he'd seen eons ago flashed into his mind bringing a slight smile to his lips, "Never give up, never surrender." Well he couldn't give up and he would never – ever surrender of his own free will.

He would make it out and Dean would be waiting for him. That thought kept him on his feet. His throat was dry, his body heavy with fatigue, but still he marched on. The indomitable spirit that lived inside him flared brightly, another step another inch closer to success.

The blade in his hand had been silent for several hours. The sword had fought well, which had surprised him. Fingering the ebony blade he felt several nicks in the smooth metal. He'd felt the blade's pain as it fought the dark monsters Tartarus had thrown in their path. Frankly it amazed him that the sword was willing to fight for him! Or was he just the means to an end?

His head came up, his brows furrowed in confusion as he listened to the beautiful compelling song that was carried on the wind. It comforted him, easing his pain and aching heart. The voice seemed familiar somehow. The music called to him enticing him from his path. Of their own accord his feet wandered to the left. Hissing in fear he leaped back to the center of the path.

Hardening his heart he shoved the blade through a belt loop and stuffed his fingers in his ears blocking out most of the sound.

Eyes downcast he stared at the path in front of him. He stopped abruptly nearly careening into something blocking his path. His head came up to stare in shock at the figure standing in front of him.

A trembling hand reached for him. There was no blame or censure in her eyes only love as she looked at him. "Sam," she whispered softly. "How are you?"

"Jessica," he whispered. Pain and shock were written clearly on his face at the sight of his lost love standing only a few feet away. "NO," he croaked. Her loss tore through him again, his failure to save her ate at him.

Blinking back the tears he drank in the sigh of her, wishing it could have been different.

The song tearing at him intensified with each breath he took. He was tired, so very tired.

"I miss you so much," she cried softly.

"I miss you too," he whispered brokenly.

Lost in the dream the young hunter's tired mind wanted to believe his cherished love stood in front of him. He wanted to reach out, wrap his arms around her, draw her close and loose himself in the comfort of her warm embrace. He sighed and stepped leaning down to taste the sweetness of her lips. The urge to heed the Siren's song was playing in his head, desire was overriding his caution.

The dark blade at his hip grumbled. The Siren's song was a jarring hum along the ebony blade. He could feel the human's emotions running rampant. The sword hissed angrily before sending a fierce shock through the young hunter's body.

The sizzling energy broke the Siren's spell. Sam screeched in shock and stumbled backward.

The beloved face wavered. "What the hell," he muttered beneath his breath. The thought of what he'd almost done washed over him. He'd heard of them, knew how deadly their song could be. The thought of what he'd almost allowed to happen washed over him.

His hand flew to the sword at his hip. His mind whispered a heartfelt, "_Thanks_."

The soft lilting song spun away replaced by a screeching sound that shook the ground beneath their feet.

Blue eyes snapped angrily. Fury swept through Jennifer at the thought of loosing his soul, the first real food she'd had in a thousand years. Demon souls were one thing. A living soul would quench her hunger for a very long time.

Sam doubled over and stumbled backward.

"I will have you," she screamed ominously. Floating into the air she circled right maneuvering in behind him.

Sam hissed but didn't turn. He didn't dare look back.

The sword in his hand came up, "_Behind you_," it whispered urgently.

Gripping the sword with two hands he swung the blade in a spinning arc over his head. The black blade cut through the air and sliced deep across the Siren's left cheek. The razor sharp edge laid the wound open to the bone. Reddish black ichor streamed down the Siren's cheek. A cry of pain split the darkness.

The Siren had never known pain. Furious at the attack the Siren ducked low and leaped forward. Arms outstretched her hands balled into fists she slammed into Sam's back sending him tumbling forward up the path.

A whoosh of air exploded from his lungs and he came close to dropping the sword. The hunter knew if he did, he was dead.

Ducking down he controlled his fall as best he could and rolled forward - always forward.

The sword hissed in his mind, "_She's coming_," it groused. "_Five feet, four feet_," the sword counted down.

Sam hissed and tightened his grip. Closing his eyes he came out of the roll and leaped into the air spinning full circle the blade jerked in his hand as the sword took control and aimed for full effect.

The sword had been a captive in hell for hundreds of years. It knew the lore, knew just how to strike the Siren. It didn't hesitate.

A gurgling screech greeted Sam's attack when the blade sliced through the Siren's neck severing her head from her body.

The young hunter prayed that he'd come full circle when he landed and cautiously opened his eyes. He let out a long sigh when he recognized a prominent rock formation he'd sighted on before beginning his spin.

"_Where is she_," he questioned the sword.

"_Dead_," the sword whispered in satisfaction.

Sam heard a heavy thunk. Gasping he felt something brush is right ankle and looked down as the Siren's head rolled past him. He stared in shock and stepped back only to bump against the creature's body.

"_I think we need to unass the AO_," the sword hissed. The blade had drunk deeply of the Siren's essence. It could feel the creatures' powerful energy flowing through it. It also felt something else, more powerful, more sinister than the little girl it had just beheaded.

Sam could almost feel the satisfaction humming through the sword. That feeling was quickly replaced by a throbbing need to run, and Sam did.

Sprinting forward he rushed up the path.

In his mind he heard the swords joy singing in his mind. "_I see it_," it whispered reverently."

'Singing,' Sam hissed, thesword was suddenly singing every word it spoke.

"_See what_," Sam snapped.

"_Light_," the sword sighed.

Sam's head snapped forward searching for the source of the swords excitement. Sam nearly cried when he saw the brilliant speck of light in the distance. "Almost home Dean," he crowed happily.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She laughed softly at the game her sister played with the human. Khandra had feasted recently and allowed her younger sister the opportunity to drink of the human's soul. From the small pool at her side she watched, enjoying the beguiling game her sister played.

The sudden turn of events, the shock at her sisters' death tore through her. Khandra screamed her agony into the darkness. The world around her trembled with fear at the rage tearing through the Siren. Leaping into the sky she exploded into action and flew through hell's dark depths vengeance in her heart. The human would die a slow torturous death. She would rend him apart and eat his flesh. She would raise his head on a pike for all to see.

Pain tore through her black heart, Jennifer was dead. The impossible had happened. Khandra would never again hear the lilting laughter or see the mischief in her sister's eyes. For thousands of years the secret had been guarded. Did this human know the secret of how to kill them or had it been just a lucky strike? Khandra didn't care, he was going to die.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sword held firmly in his hands Sam rushed forward. The light, the gateway out of hell was close. Dean would be free.

Slowly – ever so slowly the tiny pinhole of light grew larger.

The sword in his hand hummed a happy tune.

From high above the path Khandra spotted the human. The beautiful face was contorted with rage. Her body grew to twice its size. Black skin became mottled and splotched with anger.

She dropped to ground like a ten ton stone. The ground cracked and shook from the blow sending an explosion of rock and debris into the air.

Sam came to a skidding halt a few feet from the monstrous creature blocking his path. The air was gray and foggy, but he could see it, feel it – almost touch it.

Fire roared through Khandra's veins. A piercing scream was torn from her throat. The powerful blast shoved him backward.

Lifted off his feet Sam hissed a strangled breath as he was thrown down the rocky path. Screwing his eyes shut he slammed into the ground and tumbled backward.

Shocked by the impact the breath was torn from his lungs.

Rolling to his feet he raised the sword. His voice was near hysteria as he screamed a question at the sword, "_Which direction is the light_."

"_To your left,_" the sword answered quickly. "_Turn to you left_."

Sam spun to his left asking, "_Am I facing the light now_?"

"_What the hell is wrong with you_?" the sword snapped.

"_I can't see,"_ Sam hissed.

"_Well open your damn eyes_," the sword shouted back.

"_I can't_," Sam cried. "_I'll loose everything, we'll loose everything_."

"_Its coming_," the sword ground out.

"_Where, where_," Sam snapped.

"_Directly in front of you_**, **_it's blocking the light_," the sword warned. _"Its almost here,"_ the sword shouted fearfully.

Daring to open his eyes, he peered at the creature in horror. The beautiful exotic creature was gone, this was a monster from the depths of hell and it was coming for him. Long black claws were extended clacking in anticipation of the kill. Blue-black lips were pulled back to reveal several rows of razor sharp teeth. Blood red eyes sparked furiously as it sighted on its target.

Sam knew there was no retreat. There was death in the creature's eyes and he had nowhere to run. The young hunter felt the fear rolling through his stomach, but he couldn't let this thing defeat him. The light was only a few hundred feet away, salvation so close – yet now so very far away.

Racing toward him Khandra could feel the hazy touch of insanity seeping into her mind. Hatred for this creature consumed her. Piece by tiny piece she would tear it apart and consume its flesh.

Recklessly she charged in claws extended, intending to gut the human before devouring its entrails.

Sam watched and waited until the last possible second. Dropping low he swung the blade in an arch aiming for the creature's chest.

Khandra screamed in agony as the black blade sliced across her chest digging a deep path through the leathery skin leaving a trail of ichor streaming down her stomach.

The dark creature stumbled backward and screamed her fury. The blast of sound sent the young hunter spinning down the trail.

Sam hissed and closed his eyes. The rocky trail tripped him up sending him to his knees.

"_Get up, get up, get up_," the sword shouted.

"_Which way is the light_," Sam pleaded for the second time.

"_Neither one of us is going into the light if you don't open your eyes and fight,"_ the sword screamed.

"_I can't_," Sam warned him reluctant to give the sword anymore information.

"_You are going to die_," the sword stated vehemently.

Sam was helpless; he hated the thought of letting the sword take control, but what choice did he have. He had pushed it out before, he could do.

Let me in, the sword screamed at him_, "I can beat this creature."_

Praying he was doing the right thing Sam let down his guard allowing the sword to take control. A hot flash of pain spiked through his skull as the powerful energy within the sword rushed in and took control.

Sam could feel the sword's power flowing into his body. The sensation was heady and exhilarating. In the blink of an eye the sword came up.

Khandra screamed and hopped backward a healthy respect for the human and his sword dawned in her eyes, but it didn't change the fact that she would see him dead. She was a demi-god; no puny human would best her. She'd rushed in letting the hatred cloud her mind. She had taken his measure now, she would win this battle.

An evil smile twisted her thick lips. Snapping her hand upward she sent a barrage of rocks arrowing toward her enemy.

The sword sang with laughter as it moved with frenzied action to destroy every rock that hurtled toward it. With effortless ease it battered through the hail of stone. Sam's body danced and dipped across the rocky ground with the ease of an Olympic gymnast. With fluid grace he moved to the attack.

_The sword painted a picture of the battle in Sam's mind. Dipping and twisting as it fought to destroy the Siren_

The Siren shrieked her anger as each swipe of the blade destroyed her attack. Growling she leaped forward swiping at the blade trying to tear if from the human's grasp.

The blade's laughter wafted through Sam's mind. The joy of battle sang through his veins, but it seemed somehow different - more powerful.

The battle raged on, neither giving ground. Sam's body was nearing exhaustion, blood flowed from multiple wounds. The sword felt his distress and knew it had to act quickly or neither of them would feel the warm soft caress of the sunlight.

With a final jolt of power the blade sent Sam sliding across the ground beneath the Siren's legs. He came up fast and hard. Twisting he spun left and rammed the point of the sword through Khandra's back straight through her heart.

The Siren screamed in agony but didn't die. Frantically Khandra grabbed for the blade spearing her trembling body. Gasping for air the touch of her hands on the blade sent a spark of recognition through her. "Jennifer," she breathed softly.

Lilting laughter flowed through the blade. "Yes sister, did you think I was gone forever? "I'm here, I am inside the sword," she whispered proudly.

Khandra nearly cried with relief.

The Sword / Jennifer entity laughed deliciously.

Khandra had always been the more powerful Siren, but with the Sword now in her possession Jennifer was her equal.

Sam could feel the war being waged between the three combatants. The sword was reluctant to give up control, but Jennifer was strong. It could feel her furious energy as she tried to overpower it. But the Sword had made a promise. It would do everything in its power to fulfill that promise or face destruction.

The blade took on a life of its own sending what little energy remained to it through the hilt directing Sam to pull with everything he had.

The young hunter heeded the command, but the blade would not be drawn from the Siren's body. He could hear her grunting in pain but she would not relax her grip. Khandra and Jennifer fought for control. Jennifer wanted her body. Khandra was loath to give it up. The sword was the catalyst that held them all together.

"_Sam_," the sword panted through the tentative link it now held with the young hunter. "_She won't let me go_," the sword huffed frantically.

The blade was truthful as far as it went. He could not break free of the Siren's hold, but the power flowing through him was enticing.

"_Go Sam_, _you have to go now while I still have a little bit of control. If she beats me, she will kill you,"_ it warned the young hunter.

The blade spoke the truth; Sam could feel the Siren's furious energy pulsing through the sword. She hated him with every fiber of her being.

"_I can't_," Sam cried softly, "_I made a deal, I won't leave you_."

"_You have too_," the sword shouted. "_I release you from the deal Sam, now go!_"

Still Sam hesitated, unwilling to break his promise.

"_Sam, do you want to die_," the sword screamed again. "_I release you, now say it, say it and get the hell out of here."_

Sam drew in a deep breath and slowly whispered the words that would give him and the sword their freedom. _"I release you from the deal."_

At those words the sword sent a shock of electricity through the hilt straight into Sam.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Will Sam survive - will he go into the light!! All your questions will be answered soon. Wery Wery Soon! LOL Huggers**_


	11. Chapter 11

**DLB11Through the Gates of Hell**

The young hunter gasped at the unexpected assault. Releasing his tight grip on the sword he skittered backward away from the melee. Eyes tightly shut he could hear the struggle of Siren and Sword close beside him.

Yet thankfully the sword had fulfilled its promise leaving Sam with the vision of a beckoning light and its direction in his mind.

Sam spun right and opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him filled his heart with hope. Stumbling forward he broke into a frantic run up the path.

Behind him the raging battle continued.

It was a fight for possession. Empowered by the previous kills the Jennifer Blade drank deeply of the Siren's energy uniting the sisters in a furious battle for domination. Molten power flowed through the Siren and the sword. Instantly the dueling trio understood what drove the other. Love was the least of it, power, domination and destruction were the driving forces.

Jennifer had always portrayed the meek and mild miss – but the furies of hell at the injustice of their betrayal had been a festering wound. She was strong, stronger than Khandra could have imagined.

The essence inside the sword was the perfect outlet for her rage. Now she needed a body and Khandra was her target.

A fiery glow engulfed them. They would burn for nearly a century as they fought for control. In the end they would merge and meld. Khandra/Jennifer would break the curse laid upon the Three of them would become one. The sword would ignite the flames of destruction in the Sirens. As one their power would rival the most powerful of god. ( But that's another story.)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam ran until he was exhausted. Even from this distance he could hear the raging battle.

Stumbling Sam went down hard. He slipped and slid and jammed his eyes shut again as his wayward body tumbled back down the path. He came to rest against a rocky outcropping. His lungs burned as he tried to breath.

He felt it then, the soft gentle brush of the wind against his cheek. "Dean," he breathed softly. It had to be Dean, he choked silently. The thought that his brother was still with him drove the hunter back to his feet. Even in his haste to climb out Sam had take stock of his surrounding. The rocky outcropping where he lay had been to his right. Placing his hands on the trail in front of him he slowly turned to his right and stood up.

A shuddering breath went through him. If he had failed to discover the right direction Dean would be lost to him forever. Peeling his right eyelid up Sam peeked out and hissed when he didn't immediately see the bright light.

He sucked in a breath and held it turning slightly left. The gate from hell popped into view. The young hunter sighed with relief.

Again he felt the gentle brush of the wind across his neck. "Almost home," he whispered to the wind. Slowly, methodically he placed one foot in front of the other. There would be no misstep this time. He was to close to his hearts desire to fail now.

The closer he drew to the light the more powerful the draw. He was tempted to run, but one misstep had nearly lost him everything, he would not entice disaster a second time.

Turning the last corner he slid to a halt as the ground in front of him fell away. A cry of failure was torn from his throat. A chasm, at least fifty feet wide cut across the path. "Dammit," he shouted as he dropped to his knees. No rope, no bridge spanned the wide gulf, it seemed so hopeless.

"I've done everything you wanted," he screamed. "Beat every obstacle you put in my path. What more do you want," he screamed hopelessly. "What more do you want," he pleaded as he dropped to his knees and gave in to the exhaustion and bleakness of his situation.

He lay in a heap his mind and body numb.

His eyes saw, but his mind did not comprehend when his trembling hands brushed dirt from the trail into the chasm.

Slumping down he lay his head on the path and stared at the darkness in front of him.

A breeze blew across his back ruffling his hair. "I failed Dean," the young hunter wailed.

The harsh wind kicked up pushing at the young hunter. It picked up speed, swirling around him blowing the dark dust from the trail into the chasm.

His heart in his throat, Sam stared in confusion at what was suddenly revealed in front of him. Slowly, carefully he leaned forward and brushed his hand across the dust that seemed to be floating in the air above the chasm. A spark of hope flared and the hunter pushed himself to his feet. Grabbing a handful of rocks and dirt he threw it into the chasm, shocked when the gravel slithered through the air revealing a set of steps.

Two, three, four more handfuls of dirt followed. Swearing beneath his breath Sam stared at what might be his only way out. The problem was the steps lead him down the chasm instead of up toward the beacon of light.

"Way to go, dirtbag," he chastised himself. He'd been so sure he'd stayed on the path Hades had indicated. Where had he gone wrong?

He didn't want to go down, he wanted to go up.

Stepping back he felt the wind at his back pushing him forward. What choice did he have? He couldn't go back, that meant loosing everything, but could he trust what was before him. Could he trust the whispering wind he prayed was his brother?

Mumbling something obscene beneath his breath he took a hesitant step forward leaving most of his weight on hard ground. When his foot touched the solid surface of the step hovering over the chasm, he took a deep breath and stepped out into space. The invisible step held and he sighed with relief. Tentatively he tested each step before making the commitment. Slowly he made his way down into the dark abyss, his back plastered against the chasm wall. Nearly three hundred steps later he reached out and felt nothing. Hissing he tried again, but no step greeted his foot, only the darkness of the chasm. The wall to his right was solid, no cave or hole meet his searching fingers.

He sat down heavily in defeat. It was all over now, he had no where to go. A crushing loss streaked through him. Drawing his knees up close to his chest he let the tears fall until he finally cried himself to sleep.

He woke with a start, the oppressive darkness of the canyon surrounding him. His broken heart told him to lie down and let the darkness take him forever, but the Winchester spirit was too strong for that. Sighing, he slowly rose to his feet. He had two choices: step into the oblivion of the canyon or take the steps back up.

Once again he stepped forward reaching out with a booted foot to search for the stairs. He stood one hand on the wall, his foot hovering over the depths of hell.

Reason took over. There had to be a way, Hades wouldn't have set him on this path and led him this far just to leave him stranded. Or would he?

Leaning back he drew his foot up still indecisive about his next move.

All around him a furious wind kicked up.

"Dammit Dean, I don't know what to do," he shouted.

He thought he heard a mocking laugh in his mind a nanosecond before the raging wind struck him from behind.

Scrambling for purchase Sam lost the fight. Fingers frantically scraped the rock as he pitched forward into oblivion. Flailing wildly he fell into the darkness. He turned sideways and hissed, slamming his eyes shut in fear, nearly forgetting Hades and Persephone's warning, "Don't Look Back."

Groaning he twisted and turned facing back into the black depths and waited. The wind whistled around him. Sam screamed his terror into the darkness. Death was coming to claim him and he could not stop it.

But nothing happened, he felt himself falling, falling forever. He felt the darkness creeping into his mind. Tiny spikes of agony pelted his entire body. He gasped as the pain intensified, but still he fell.

In the blink of an eye he saw the ground come up to meet him. Pain, like nothing he'd ever experienced tore through him. His body shattered into a million pieces. His last thought only of his failure to save his brother.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**So was the whispering wind really Dean after all? Will Sam survive his tumbling fall? The next couple of chapters will reveal all. Huggers, and please to leave me a little review and let me know how you feel. Sorry about the cliffie - but have to keep you coming back somehow - she laughs wickedly!!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_This is the last chapter, I had hoped to get it posted last week before the premier. Alas I did not. I hope you like it._**

**_The premier was great - so take this chapter with a grain or two of salt!_**

**DLB12 The Agony of Defeat**

The sun was coming over the horizon, bathing the land in an orangey glow. The warm rays gently touched a still figure laying in a quiet meadow. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was a clear indication of life.

Several of the forest creatures watched the curious finding. They had been drawn to the field, intrigued by the air of tranquility that surrounded the newcomer.

A tiny pure white baby bunny, its pink nose wiggling in interest inched forward until her short whiskers brushed against his pale skin. The bunny showed no signs of fear only a curious sense of urgency. Pulling herself up onto her back legs the white rabbit laid its front paws on the silent figure. With a mighty leap, the bunny landed in the center of the crumpled form. Hopping forward she stopped and laid down sending a spark of energy humming through the large form.

The sudden warmth slowly brought the lone figure to consciousness.

Sam drew in a deep breath. A peaceful calm settled over him as he opened his eyes. Blinking away the fog he laid still and let his gaze roam His eyes widening in shock at the assembled animals that surrounded him. '_What the_…' he wondered silently.

He felt the tiny bunny sitting in the middle of his chest tremble, but he didn't know if it was fear or something else.

When she didn't flee he reached up and gently took the bunny in his hand and inched his way up to a sitting position doing his best not to startle his companions. The fact that the wild creatures surrounding him didn't run, surprised him. He sat there his fingers caressing the soft fur in amazement as several more of the creatures moved forward to touch him. He held out his hand awed by the trust they showed.

For a long moment he felt the peace of the forest and the creatures surround him. He sighed wishing he could stay there forever.

In an instant memory of his time in hell flooded his mind. Memories that would haunt him forever returned. "Dean," he whispered hopefully. Desperate eyes searched the clearing but his brother's body was nowhere to be found.

Sam jumped to his feet, this time he did startle the animals. Sadly he watched them flee except for the tiny white bunny still nestled close to his chest. He looked down, his brows furrowed in confusion, "Dean," he queried.

The little bunny in his hand snorted and shook her head – possibly in denial. Sam couldn't tell. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Gently he set the bunny back on the ground and took stock of his surroundings. The mountains were familiar. He was close, very close to the Sapphire Mine and the Impala.

Yelling at the top of his lungs he called his brother's name. "Dean," he shouted desperation. Breaking into a run he heard a sweetly feminine voice behind him and turned to look.

The words he heard in his head were filled with utter sadness as the wind whispered his name. "Sam." Shaking her head sadly the little white bunny sighed and slowly sat down waiting. "_Children are so impulsive_," she mussed silently. She waited patiently watching as he raced away calling his brother's name. It was something he would have to discover for himself.

He ran. Ran for miles, circling, twisting, and hunting for something he desperately needed to find, but couldn't. When exhaustion took over he slumped to the ground. His triumph was suddenly washed away.

"God Dean I'm Sorry," he shouted as realization dawned. He had failed, utterly and miserably failed to bring his brother back.

Staring through tear stained eyes he looked up at the sky. What the trickster couldn't teach him in months of torture, he taught himself. His failure to bring his brother out of hell was the final straw that would break the camel's back.

He sank to the ground and curled into a ball. He laid there, his mind twisted by his failure. Over and over he relived the trek through the depths of hell. Over and over he sought the answer to his failure – but each time it eluded him.

The little bunny found him hours later. Curling around his neck she snuggled close doing her best to comfort him.

Long fingers gently brushed through the soft fur. Eventually the tears subsided and he slept. His thoughts filled with turmoil and regret.

He woke hours later with the sun high in the sky. Stiff and sore he slowly pushed himself to his feet the tiny bunny in his hand.

With a heavy sigh he stared at the tiny creature. With a broken whisper he thanked her. Somehow she had known he needed her, needed the unconditional love and attention she gave him.

The bunny lifted herself up her front paws reaching out as her pink nose twitched.

Sam leaned forward a sad tiny smile tugging at his lips when her pink tongue met his lips.

With a final caress he set her on the ground and watched as she hopped away.

"Bye," he whispered brokenly. Like her he knew he needed to move on. Put his life back together and plan his future without Dean.

He watched her hop off into the tree line. His jaw dropped in shock as a misty form solidified. Pale gold ringlets bounced down her back, her sheer white silken gown was cut in the distinctive Grecian design.

"_Goodbye Sam_," Persephone whispered before her ethereal form vanished with the wind. "_I'm sorry_."

She didn't look back, and Sam had to shake his head wondering if he'd imagined the elegant woman had really been there at all. He sighed and turned away.

His eyes hardened, his lips curled into a deadly smile, he had demons to kill. It was the least he could do to avenge his brother.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Do not kill the Messenger!!**_

_**I hope you weren't looking for a happy ending here. **_

_**If I stay true to the series – Sam did fail to bring his brother back. If you watched the premier last week than you know – there was a happy ending – sort of. **_

_**The premier was awesome. I knew immediately when I saw the hand on Dean's shoulder – The Hand of God!! But I cannot find any lore on Castiel? Does anyone know if Castiel is truly an angel or something else??**_


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